


The changes we dread (are the changes we need)

by araydre, cpt_winniethepooh



Series: the changes we need [1]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Angst, Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes as Captain America, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The First Avenger, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America Steve Rogers, Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, SHIELD bureucracy, Secret Identity, Self-Worth Issues, Social Commentary, Social Issues, Social Media, guest appearances from the caps of the comics, systematic problems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-04-27 16:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 83,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14429967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araydre/pseuds/araydre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpt_winniethepooh/pseuds/cpt_winniethepooh
Summary: Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were both on the Valkyrie when it crashed. In the new century they are both Captain America and work for a SHIELD that keeps the world safe - and also keeps superhero IDs a secret.Except they've had enough of SHIELD controlling their lives and they set out on a journey to find the Third Cap... and if they end up finding true friendships, secrets of the past, and maybe even a way to make this secret superhero thing a better deal for all parties involved? Well, that's just what Captain(s) America does, isn't it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Menatiera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menatiera/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own CA or any other marvel characters from the movies, series, nor from the comics and assorted media.
> 
> This fic is mostly crack with a healthy side of fluff and a plot later on. HYDRA never got hold of Bucky so no trash party on that front; he still has his issues though, but nothing too tragic or explicit. Bucky and Steve are in an established relationship too, and swear like sailors, be warned :D
> 
> I have to give shoutouts: first a huge one to [@menatiera](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/), because this fic was not only beta'd, cheerled and titled by, but also inspired by and written for her :)  
> Also @[araydre](araydre.tumblr.com) who drew AMAZING FANART for me!!!!!! Wow, thank you so much, I still can't believe I got fanart!!!!!!!  
> And last but not least [@Speranza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speranza/pseuds/Speranza), whose story, the ['4 minute window series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/197993)' was a HUGE inspiration for this piece :) check it out because it's incredible!

 

Bucky's mouth opened to a soft O as Steve kissed his way up his neck, taking precious care with every spot, knowing what Bucky came undone for and willing to abide. Bucky ran his hands through Steve's hair, the short soft spikes on the back, then lower to his neck - he just tugged Steve's shirt over his head, making Steve pause in his ministrations, when their pagers beeped simultaneously.

'No,' Bucky groaned. 'No, not fucking this now.'

Steve fished one from between the cushions, checked then extended it to Bucky. '...I could take your shift?'

The offer was tempting, but. They had a schedule for a reason for when SHIELD didn’t specify which Cap was needed, and Bucky had no reasonable excuse for a change. 'I'mma fucking kill whoever's disturbing us.'

'Try to bring them in alive or SHIELD will freak out,' Steve advised with a wry smile, and Bucky tossed him off.

' _I'm_ the one freaking out, Steve. This is the third - the _fourth_ \- time this month, depending on how you count the Starbucks Incident, and it's only the 12th!' he disengaged the lock in the safe and changed into his uniform with quick and efficient movements that spoke of practice, then went for his boots. 'It's like they know we're about to have some fun and have to piss in it. What's the address?'

Steve read it out to him from the pager, and also stood up to check the straps on the shield. 'Well, at least it's not far from here,' he said. He held  the shield out for Bucky who clicked it home to the harness on his back. 'We can finish what we started when you get home,' he leaned in for a kiss that Bucky returned with fervor.

'When I get home we can talk about my idea of sharing and caring,' Bucky said, and it was Steve's turn to groan.

'No, Buck -'

'When I get home,' Bucky repeated and pulled the helmet over his head, making sure that his brown hair - considerably longer and darker than Steve's - was securely tucked under. He then checked himself in the full body mirror to ensure that everything was how it was supposed to be. 'I'm serious, Stevie, we're gonna have to talk.'

Steve huffed out a stubborn sigh. 'Just take care and get back safe,' he said.

'I will. Punk.'

'Jerk.'

Then Bucky stepped back to press another hot kiss to Steve's lips. He really, seriously fucking didn't want to go, but duty called, so he pressed the button to the garage level in the elevator and made his way to his bike.

~*~*~

The thing was, nobody knew there were two Captains America.

Well, okay, that wasn't true on two different levels: first of, there was only one Captain America with two people playing the role. And a few superheroes and supervillains _had_ figured the trick out, but the general public was generally unaware of the scheme.

Professor X knew, probably: he had vaguely defined telepathic abilities and there was no way he wouldn't have figured out the two different minds under the same helmet. And his arch nemesis, Magneto - hard to fool someone whose ability was to manipulate metal when the parties involved had one metal arm between themselves. So when Magneto got involved, Steve automatically took every call - the mutant had a lot of respect for him for obvious reasons anyway.

The Black Widow probably knew simply because she was the Black Widow and there was no way the master of espionage wouldn't have noticed the small differences between Bucky and Steve. Deadpool - one of the boxes told him, apparently. And Wolverine - he actually knew Steve's civil identity, and Steve his, so Bucky would've been hard to leave out.

So far the superhero etiquette held: no outing civil identities. Steve was worried about Deadpool, but they guy's marbles appeared to be intact where it counted. And Magneto, an openly Jewish supervillain, was in awe of Captain America even though he didn't even knew Cap happened to be Jewish half of the time.

SHIELD was aware, naturally, or at least their handlers and the Special Coordinators, ie. the personnel responsible for coordinating the superheroes’ - oh, sorry, the _special agents’_ \- jobs. They designed both of the identical looking but slightly differently fitted Captain America uniforms and sometimes they requested a specific Cap - Blue Cap or Red Cap, as their codes said - to take the call. And sometimes, for espionage missions, they requested them in incognito, as a field agent instead of a special one, and they had to wear black instead of the regular stars and stripes. The rarest was when Bucky had to work as his pre-Cap alias, as the Winter Soldier, when sometimes a sniper was needed and Hawkeye wasn’t availiable.

And finally Peggy Carter knew, too - no power on Earth or beyond could’ve made them leave her in the dark, security issues be damned.

So. All would've, or should've been good if Steve and Bucky hadn’t had a shared schedule. Back when Bucky was mostly the Winter Soldier they had downtime, but then SHIELD decided to capitalize (hah) on Cap. _The nation needs familiarity_ , Fury said. _A moving speech from Captain America does more than 10 other special agents can do_ , Coulson said. Suddenly one wasn’t even enough anymore and Cap was always on call, and so one of them was always on call, and that made dating a _bitch_ . They hadn't had a quiet moment since those three days when Dr. Strange accidentally short-circuited Bucky's arm and Steve told SHIELD to fuck off until he got back on his feet. And even those days had little to offer in terms of naughtiness - or anything that involved _moving_ \- given Bucky's wretched state.

For Bucky the solution was simple: they needed a third Captain America, and there wasn't much more to it.

~*~*~

Steve was still asleep when Bucky sneaked under the covers at 3am. Well, he tried to sneak, but the Huskies greeted him enthusiastically and rather full of saliva - Steve must've felt lonely in the giant bed and let them up, or they just didn’t listen to him, as always; but the sheets were in need of a wash anyway. By the time Bucky ordered both down to the floor Steve had one eye open just a fraction, and the giant blond octopus immediately latched onto him and whispered to him mostly from the world of the dreams, 'Ya'kay?'

''M unharmed, Stevie, go back to sleep.' Well, he didn't need to say it twice, and he himself quickly followed Steve's good example - the way he had since he was eight.

The next morning after two rounds of customary "glad you're back" sex, Steve's morning run with the dogs, and breakfast that would've fed the whole army of a smallish country, it was Steve who brought up the mission first.

'So how was last night?'

'The mission was _fine_ , Steve, don't pretend you haven't been following everything on three news channels and the supposedly secured SHIELD line.'

Steve, to his credit, only blushed a little.

'They should've secured it better,' he said.

'They probably should've,' Bucky agreed, 'since a guy bordering on 100 can break in.'

Steve shrugged, and Bucky let it go - not like he himself never listened in on Steve while he was stress-smoking on the balcony. They understood the worry of those left home: Steve from when Bucky’d been on the front and Bucky from when his arm was being built.

'I was hoping SHIELD would call in Iron Man,' Steve said, and Bucky had to grin: Steve and Iron Man didn't have the best record of getting along. Iron Man made old-man jokes and generally treated Steve like he couldn’t even use a telephone (a view shared by many thanks to Cap’s early 20th century origins being semi-public), while Steve despised that the tech-savvy genius could never take anything seriously.

Personally, Bucky believed that they would get on well if only they started acting like reasonable adults and not like kids fighting in a sandbox, but then again, Steve's fame never laid with his sanity. Bucky, on the other hand, was perfectly fine with having to work with Iron Man on the very few occasions when they were called in at the same time, and he only had beefs with really questionable coworkers - Crossbones, for instance.

See, Fury's bias clearly showed towards certain superheroes. Steve was one of his favorites (Bucky backed this wholeheartedly: Steve was _his_ favorite too), but so was - unfortunately for Steve - Iron Man. Fury said he only wanted to make them work together for future efficiency, but Steve and Bucky said that was bullshit. Fury had had a certain six to cooperate so often on major _and_ minor missions that Steve walked in one day to SHIELD to have a heart to heart with Fury about favoritism and personal gains (it was a loud and angry heart to heart, okay, Bucky would've heard everything from the corridor even without the superhuman hearing) and after that Fury differentiated between the Caps mostly based on the villain.

Bucky had yet to be working with Iron Man regularly, though.

'Plenty of time for him to get on my nerves in the future, I guess,' Bucky said without remorse, because Crossbones was much worse than Iron Man, no matter what Fury said. He took a sip from Steve's coffee that Steve just poured for himself, and got a hand tug his hair in return.

'Yeah, I wish.'

Steve looked honestly put out, so Bucky decided to use that to his advantage.

'You know what would help you avoid him more?'

Steve frowned. 'No. I mean I know what you're about to say, but it's not possible.'

Bucky did an impressive imitation of every comically surprised cartoon face ever, he was sure. His exaggerations were _spot on_.

'Says the man who's been genetically engineered to a man who's about 10% robot, _in the future_.'

Steve rolled his eyes, and let it be noted that Steve could challenge Bucky in terms of being theatrical any day.

'SHIELD will never allow it.'

'Since when do you care about what SHIELD thinks.'

Not a question: Bucky knew that Steve gave precisely zero fucks about what SHIELD thought at any given moment. He played along because he could do what he wanted (i.e. to help the world on a large scale) conveniently and he also got the necessary support for it.

'They sign our paychecks,' Steve reasoned as a half-hearted attempt to become the rational one opposing Bucky's hot-headedness.

Now _Bucky_ had to roll his eyes. 'I've no idea how we'd manage without the SHIELD-money between your arts career, my baking courses and 70 years of both of our military backpays.'

Steve caught up to the sarcasm, and also kicked Bucky's shin so that Bucky’s chair thumped back to the ground from where it was swaying on only two legs. 'Yeah, okay, you know it's not because of the paychecks and the health insurance and the rest. But, Bucky, I think we're doing just fine as it is. I was Cap before the plane crash on my own and it was fine.'

Bucky suppressed a shudder at the mention of the Valkyrie, but Steve saw right through him and squeezed his hand apologetically.

'You had only the Red Skull and HYDRA to worry about,' Bucky said. 'Now there's like a new villain every day. We always get called in, and even when we don’t, we're on call. How are we going to go on honeymoon when we're always on call?'

'Bucky, we aren't even engaged.'

'Not the point, Stevie, _not the point_. And what do you mean we're not engaged, have you forgotten the summer of '37?'

Steve mastered many faces over the years, and he used most of them pretty effectively on about 99% of the population. Bucky was probably the only one immune to him, even his most _"I'm so unimpressed by you right now"_ performance he projected at the moment.

'If you want me to marry you, Barnes, you'd better ask me properly or...'

'Or what?'

'Or you can say goodbye to my blowjobs.'

Bucky gaped at him. 'You wouldn't.'

'Well, I thought you would propose properly, the way your Ma would expect, but this is a day of disappointments.'

' _L_ _ow blow_ , Steve.'

'So is mixing our personal and professional relationships.'

'But that's where you're wrong,' Bucky protested. 'We don't have a professional relationship because we _never fucking work together_ , not since I took up the shield too. We each have a job and our rotating shifts never lapse. Our profession is at the expense of our personal relationship.'

He reached out to touch Steve's hand, and Steve - bless him - never pulled away when Bucky approached. 'Stevie. I - I'm not saying I don’t like being Cap, but I think he became too big for us. He gives so much hope to the people, Fury practically calls him in for every fight. It's not just the muscle value at this point, it's morale and symbolism and other shit I don't get, and we're going to crush under the weight. Or maybe that's just me, I don't know. But it's hanging over my head and I just want to _breathe_.'

Steve cupped Bucky's face with the hand that Bucky wasn't holding, and Bucky closed his eyes and leaned in.

'Buck - why didn't you tell me?'

'I'm telling you now,' Bucky mumbled.

'If you want, you don't have to-'

'No, I want to go on. But a break would be nice every now and again - with you. It's not a break if I’m going through a pack an hour from worrying about you going out there.'

Steve's hand twitched and Bucky opened his eyes, but instead of an admonishment about unhealthy habits he saw a fire roaring to life in Steve's eyes. 'Okay. Okay. If that’s how I get you to quit smoking then we need a third Captain America.'

Bucky kissed him, adoringly even more for Steve’s pretence about it all being about smoking to save some of Bucky’s pride, and he could’ve sworn Steve could taste his relief.

~*~*~

Steve insisted on involving SHIELD and telling Fury. The lesser of two evils, he said, and Bucky agreed, although they both would've preferred to do things their own way. They requested an appointment, then had to decide between waiting for Fury to have something to do in New York or traveling down to DC, and while normally Bucky would’ve loved to wait for Fury to move, he couldn’t silence a small, nasty voice in his head that told him to act before Steve changed his mind. Not that Steve would’ve ever gone back on his word, but. Small, nasty voices didn’t act in logical ways. So down to DC it was, and _God_ , Bucky only didn’t complain any louder because it was his idea in the first place. Steve checked in with Sam, then they piled Mary and Isaac into the back of their car and drove, drove, drove; stopped at Sam’s to unload the dogs and then drove some more to HQ.

The lower floors of the building were designated for low clearance employees, and despite the insane amount of security they looked, for all intents and purposes, like regular 9 to 5 offices. To get to the top floors, however, one needed extra-special-super-duper clearance involving bioscans, palm-reading machines and about a hundred pages of confidentiality agreements signed - nothing granted for a simple accountant or programmer, but required from and issued for special agents, field agents (whether they were STRIKE members or not), Special Coordinators (including the ones in direct contact with special and field agents, so handlers, but also more run of the mill types, like special HR) and of course the Director and the Commanders.

Steve and Bucky took the private elevator which had only two stops: one way below ground level (much like their elevator at home, which then lead to a tunnel near the city center) and one right outside Fury's office. Protocol dictated that appropriate gear be worn when going into HQ to protect civil identities, so either unique to each superhero uniforms or field agent outfits: regular black-with-white-accents stealth suits that lacked any special identifiable markings, complete with black eyemasks. They decided in favor of Steve going as Cap and Bucky going as Winter Soldier; while the identical stealth outfits would’ve given them more unity, it would’ve taken from the impact that they wanted to rely on.

Besides the very old-fashioned protection of wearing a mask SHIELD had other safety measures in place, like the special changing rooms and the special elevators and the special _everything_. HQ had been built with Peggy’s and Howard’s help and one goal in mind: to protect the superheroes that protect the rest of the world, and had an accordingly huge amount of bureaucracy to support the system. Everything was controlled by scanners and cameras, and it always kinda freaked Bucky out a bit. No voice told them what was happening, no way of knowing what the machines were doing, and it uncomfortably reminded Bucky of every robotic dystopia he ever read and not of a kind British voice running a specific billionaire’s Tower.

Steve, though, had a knack for getting used to the weird (ie. his own body, or the effects of the Tesseract, or Twitter threads) and he took to the 21st century like a duck to water including the parts that were impersonally ultra-modern even by 21st century standards.

Still it was worth coming only to see Fury's face change from nonchalance to "are you fucking kidding me" in an instant when Steve told him about their request. Bucky's number one hobby had always been watching a riled-up Steve explode on people, even though before Steve's serum these occasions involved less popcorn and more Bucky scraping his knuckles and putting Steve back together again.

Fury was well aware of Steve's inability to not consider everything a dare and therefore preventing said explosions became his Nr.1 Priority.

He didn't say no outright.

'Have you considered how risky involving a third party would be?' he asked instead.

'Yes. That's why we came to SHIELD,' Steve said, calmly, for the moment.

'I - son, I really have bigger issues to worry about than you wanting longer breaks.'

It grated on both of their nerves when Fury called them 'son', but that battle had been lost around the time they first joined SHIELD.

'That's not why-'

'Would you rather I put an ad on Craigslist?' Bucky interrupted Steve. Fury glared, and Bucky gave it to him: a one-eyed glare was more effective from him than a two-eyed one from most of the population.

To Fury's disappointment, Bucky developed immunity to impressive glares around '29. 'Because I can do that if SHIELD is too busy to adhere to the needs of its top employees.'

Now it was Steve who leered at Bucky, but very unlike Fury's (thank God because _ew_ ), _his_ eyes promised long movements on horizontal surfaces and mouths on certain bodyparts.

'Since when are you my "top employee",' Fury grumbled.

'Since every briefing when we ask why we're involved in minor crimes,' Steve said.

On anybody else Fury’s expression could’ve been described as  pouting. Steve didn't relent. Bucky took good use of his poker face, and wished he could’ve recorded the meeting, because later, once his stress levels returned to normal, he’d appreciate the artistry of smart people outsassing each other.

'Sir,' Steve went on, 'we don't want trouble. But supersoldier serum or not, mentally we are still human. We'd rather not strain ourselves until we snap.'

'That'd look bad on the front pages,' Bucky quipped.

'We can avoid it easily, one way or another,' Steve said.

See, Steve was a brilliant tactician, and he could also wrap a threat into a blackmail and make it look like he was being _reasonable_ and _logical_ when in fact he just subtly threatened to walk away from SHIELD if he didn't get what he wanted.

The good thing, Bucky reflected, happened to be that they were right. Fury did involve Cap almost daily. And maybe Steve gave in for Bucky's sake, but Bucky knew better: Steve couldn't have kept the weight of the world on his shoulders for an eternity either.

Fury gritted his teeth. 'So you want me to pull some supersoldier serum out of my ass and inject a random selectee with it?'

Steve controlled his frown better than Bucky.

'Sir, the supersoldier serum isn't what makes Captain America. Just in the last month we've had two cases when a civilian with the right mind would've been able to get the job done, and three more would've been feasible with a well-trained operative. And let's not forget that not all superheroes have superpowers, see Hawkeye or Black Widow, as sometimes an exceptional skillset is enough.'

Personally, Bucky had doubts about just how human Widow was, and Steve likely did too, but you didn't win an argument against Fury by undermining your own points.

'And you expect me to have another Hawkeye just lying around?' Fury asked.

'No, we expect SHIELD has a file on each person of interest in storage, alphabetically and with color-coded notes on their potential,' Bucky countered, envisioning Coulson with just such a folder. Fury's eyes narrowed slightly, but Bucky shrugged. He'd eat his own arm - the metal one - sooner than he'd let anyone convince him that SHIELD didn't keep notes on the good guys just as meticulously as they did on the bad ones, and couldn’t provide a list of two dozen candidates for Cap on the spot.

'The other solution would be having us on call less,' Steve offered with the face of an innocent three-year-old.

'You are the best soldiers in history.' Bucky was impressed by how non-spluttery Fury sounded. 'I can't risk losing to an army of monsters because you are canoodling.'

'Then you should find a third best soldier, Sir.' Steve stated.

‘Personally, I’d start with the non-superhuman field agents’ files,’ Bucky offered.

‘You can’t seriously think I’ll reassing a valuable member of any STRIKE team or that I’ll erase an established superhero persona just so that another superhero can be played by a _third_ person.’

‘You’ve done it with the Winter Soldier, Sir,’ Bucky said, and hoped that the title would take the sudden anger out of his words. ‘And field agents get promoted to special agents all the time, when they have a good image, and, well, we already have a good image, don’t we.’

‘Captain America is the poster boy for SHIELD,’ Steve said. ‘Which is fine, SHIELD was founded to help superpeople fight the good fight. But Cap is - but _we_ are called in when the big guns are needed against whole armies, and also when something smaller happens and people need someone whose voice will calm then down, _plus_ when superhero business needs some promotion. That’s all on us, that’s three different kinds of jobs done by just the two of us, and yes, we’re enhanced, but we _also_ have stealth missions when we’re going as field agents and help out with backup and strategies and the like on top of everything else. You have to agree it’s a lot, even for superfolks.’

Well. If Bucky hadn’t known that just last week Steve had been against the idea of involving a third party, he would never have guessed based on this little speech. And there was a reason for why Steve’s Cap - blue Cap - was called when crowds needed to be motivated or distraught villain-wannabees talked down from the ledge: he was fucking efficient.

'I'll look into it,' Fury said after a few moments, and after possibly running through each scenario of this argument in his head, but with the petulance of a five year old child.

Bucky held back from grinning at Steve with absolute glee but only until they were out of Fury's office.

~*~*~

The other good thing - well, the only good thing - about DC was that Steve got to meet Sam. Even though Sam always had his door open to them, their living arrangements did not make regular get-togethers easy, so whenever they had to go to HQ they popped in to say hi, and usually spent the night or the weekend as well.

The dogs especially loved staying at DC as it meant morning runs through the National Mall with not only Steve but with Sam as well, and Bucky also had little against missing Steve’s nags to go jogging with him. So instead he slept in, spared half a banana raw for Isaac and popped the other half into the freezer for Mary, then made a few dozen pancakes while singing out loud to Blank Space in order to thank Sam’s hospitality.

And indeed. ‘So, _James_ , I know I don’t say this often, but you’re always welcome when duty calls you down here,’ Sam said when they got back, under the impression that they worked as PPDs.

Of course he did not yet know that the pancake Bucky put on his plate first was made with the leftover bananas; something Sam _despised_. Steve just rolled his eyes as Sam choked, though.

‘I take it back. You are a disgrace,’ Sam told Bucky after he recovered from the shock.

‘You should’ve known that by now,’ Bucky pointed out merrily as the dogs chewed enthusiastically on their fruity treats.

‘Well, excuse me for being optimistic,’ Sam grumbled.

Still he accompanied Steve and Bucky to the Smithsonian to check out some displays that, luckily, wasn’t even in the same building of the Captain America Exhibit, so all was well.

~*~*~

Bucky had decided a long time ago, maybe around eighty years earlier, that the universe loved him - why else would the love of his life call him a moron then fall into bed with him only to never leave again? So it came to no surprise that within 24 hours of getting back from DC, their pagers beeped around 3am. Steve got to his first after he untangled himself from the sheets, and he tossed to the already upright Bucky his - both screens read _Agent Rogers, code black, ETA 10 minutes._

Yeah, okay, so watching Steve get into the dark SHIELD van after he dressed hastily in civvies, grabbed his duffel and kissed Bucky with fervor definitely didn't prove that any kind of higher being favored Bucky. Not even the one he kinda still believed in. But it did prove his point that they literally never had a calm moment together, and the fact that Steve was still away three days later just hammered that home - hopefully for Steve as well.

Bucky always felt weird when he stayed home while Steve left to fight the good fight. His blood throbbed with the need to be out there, to cover his six and protect him from harm, but of course he couldn’t do that while Steve was undercover on an op and the Cap-duty remained solely on Bucky’s shoulders.

Not that SHIELD allowed the Winter Soldier much to be Captain America’s sidekick, not since they discovered that Bucky could be a passable enough Cap himself. They couldn’t risk both of them getting injured, and the Special Coordinators - or SpecCoors, as everybody called them - would’ve needed to juggle too much with active days of service and extra benefits and whatnot to have one constantly on call anyway, so Winter Soldier slowly slunk back to the shadows with as little fanfare as possible. Bucky sometimes missed the early days of their arrival to the 21st century - well, the early days after he recovered and his arm was installed - when they had fought side by side for a few months, even if their personal relationship was going through the wringer. But nowadays they couldn’t both fight with the shield at the same time, even if they _did_ practice coordinated movements with the world's most inappropriate frisbee in their reinforced private gym.

Without Steve, Bucky had to admit, he was kind of a hermit. Steve, always the quicker to adapt, dragged him from museums to science fairs to expos and conventions and conferences, and yeah, Bucky got used to avoiding the occasional metal detectors and finding out where the dogs were allowed in pretty fast. But when it was just him…

The problem boiled down to kinda all of his hobbies being indoor activities.

So after waking up he took the dogs to the dog park and used the outdoors to lit a cig himself. Back at home he fed them and himself, then browsed blogs and vlogs and his own archive to decide what to have for lunch. He settled on what to make (dog-friendly carob chip cookies for the dogs; homemade tofu sukiyaki for himself) then got to it, and in the slow moments of cooking he watered the herbs, tried a new trick with the mutts (leave on the nose; with predictably more success with Isaac than with Mary) and answered emails. He shot and posted a quick video of Isaac balancing three dry pelletts on his head, mentally planned his post about the sukiyaki, then, after taking the dogs for a walk again, he climbed into his comfy armchair and opened an article on _Science Magazine_. Then woke up from a disturbing dream in a still Steve-free bed in the middle of the night, held onto Mary so tightly that she whined, fell back to a fitful sleep around dawn; rinse, repeat.

Steve, on the other hand, wouldn’t have known what to do with downtime if it hit him in the face. He told inquiring civilians that he was an artist, with a shy smile and a wave, which he totally was by the way: he had this online comic through which he expressed his feelings about various social norms, most of which ended up boiling down to hard criticism. His critical oneshots incited huge debates in forums and were used as signs in protests, to Steve’s greatest pleasure, and it gave him a reason to go toe to toe with absolute strangers to the point of Bucky having to look up the early signs of a stroke. Still Steve’s panels became so relatable that a steadily growing cult following emerged from other minorities' groups, and now Steve was entertaining the idea of making a printed collection of his comics.

He painted traditionally too, huge canvases filled with various bases - oil and coal and acrylic and water - that he sold on Etsy and advertised on his comic blog, and he also already had an art show with decent success. Steve, now, Steve was a man who knew what to do with his free time, and he used it to the full advantage of artistic self-expression and urge to correct all the injustice in the world.

But when Steve had other stuff to attend to, Bucky stayed in with both mutts draped over him, a cup of freshly brewed and incredibly fancy coffee (see? he could adapt to the future when it came to things that _mattered_ ) and something to take his mind off of things, preferably his e-reader.

He had 70 years of technological advancements and scientific discoveries to work through, not to mention the fiction and the popular culture, with the excuse of needing to understand all the modern references. When Bucky had imagined the future, he thought it would be... different. Shinier and more metallic, mostly, not that he would've found his place more easily in that imaginary land. In the real world everything was just _off_ enough to throw him from his game and make him want to stay in his comfort zone (ie. at home, or mostly anywhere with Steve).

Come to think of it, his anachronistic issues may have contributed to how much he liked Tony’s lab. Because the thing to drag him out regularly was the he metal arm which needed regular maintenance, especially after missions. SHIELD checked it, too, but only superficially to determine if further examinations were needed before briefings - the rest was up to Tony.

And as Steve was still away by the time of Bucky's current appointment he had to go only with the dogs in tow.

'Robocop! How's the man who has the finest technology in the world on his body today?'

Before Bucky had the chance to reply, Mary jumped up and knocked Tony over, then proceeded to lick his face clean. Isaac, usually not the first up to mischief but always in tow to follow, joined her and plastered himself over Tony's midsection.

Bucky herded them away when he was done snapping a few photos with his phone, then he pulled Tony up. The genius's hair stuck up in every direction, and he pulled a mirror from his workbench - why did he have a mirror on his workbench? - then styled some strands and gave the mutts some treats.

'I'm fine, but the arm's doing this thing -' Bucky angled his arm just _so_ , and Tony switched from dog-whisperer (Isaac was on his hind legs, taking high-fives) to mechanic in an instant.

'Ahh, and just what have you been doing to incite this development?' he asked as he started poking it with a screwdriver.

'I helped lifting Steve's bike,' Bucky said without missing a beat, but sheepishly - he hated lying to Tony.

Tony raised an eyebrow without looking up at him.

'You know, this really is the finest technology out there. The best alloy I could create and that is saying a _lot_ , and you really shouldn't be going around lifting motorbikes just to impress your Adonis of a partner, although I hope he took photos of your muscles stretching under the weight, preferably without a shirt...'

'I didn't _lift his bike from the ground_ ,' Bucky put as much indignation into his voice as he could to mask the fact that he and Steve were actually each capable of doing exactly that. 'And if you want nudes you hafta ask me. Stevie gets territorial.'

'As if you don't,' Tony countered, but it took Bucky a moment to register because his mouth was full of an assortment of tools.

'I'm not territorial over my own body,' Bucky shrugged, and Tony swatted him to keep still.

A few minutes later Tony climbed out from inside the arm - it always felt to Bucky that Tony was in a different world when he was mechanicking. Doing mechanical things? Does 'mechanic' have a verb form?

'I think it's just a minor thing, but I'll need it off to be sure,' Tony said and wiped his hand in a rag that looked way dirtier than cleaning equipment should've.

Bucky involuntarily tensed, then shook himself. Tony caught it - Tony caught _everything_ \- but he would've known about the nature of Bucky's issues anyway, even if he believed Bucky lost his arm in Afghanistan instead of on the Valkyrie thanks to a space-HYDRA weapon.

'We can wait for Steve to hold your other hand, like old married couples do in hospitals,' Tony offered without any hint of sarcasm in his voice.

'Nah, I'm good,' Bucky said because who knew when Steve was getting back? Besides, he was a grown-up. He could totally take off one arm without Steve holding his other.

Still, he got both Mary and Isaac at his sides, and he ran his hand through the soft fur while Tony detached the prosthetic. He liked Tony's workshop: it was futuristic the way the future was supposed to be futuristic. Long steel edges and warm clear light and the smell of metal and oil, and most importantly, it was _loved_. Even JARVIS calmed him whereas usually the body-less speaker voices just freaked him out, see shopping malls and SHIELD HQ.

Bucky took the fact that after about three meetings with Tony in a less private lab he invited Bucky to his personal workshop _in his own Tower_ (Bucky was never going to get used to just how loaded Tony was) as the show of 'I like you, I trust you' that it was, and he returned it by letting Tony detach the arm from then on, a privilege otherwise reserved solely for Steve.

Bucky had been lucky for only needing a prosthetic from the middle of his upper arm - hell, Bucky had been lucky for surviving the blast that took not only his arm, but the lower half of the Valkyre and all of Steve's will to live with it. But looking at the convenient stump and the sleeve of the arm he could imagine what a nightmare it would've been to attach something to, say, his clavicle. As it was, the casing still covered his shoulders to provide adequate support and prevent what was rest of the humerus from breaking, and while Bucky could detach the whole shebang by himself, having helping hands from behind were preferable.

Being with only one useful hand always transferred him back in time to when he had been waiting for StarkMed - _Tony_ \- to make him a prosthetic and had to rely on Steve for even the smallest of things, including tying his shoelaces or shaving. If they hadn’t been at the roughest stage of their relationship at that point and since as well, he would’ve maybe thought of those times more fondly, but.

And then his mind caught up thanks to the auditory loop he was escaping into from other memories. 'Please don't mention marriage to Steve,' he said suddenly, interrupting Tony's singalong to the Metallica song playing _relatively_ quietly in the background.

Tony took out two miniature screws from one of the plates as he hummed. '...never showed through what I've kno--- wait, wait,' he stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Bucky with eyes big as plates. 'Did you have a fight? Did you break up? Oh my God, you cannot break up, you are the perfect couple, you put me 'n’ Pepper to shame! And it's Pepper, I mean by herself she's classier than anybody else on this Earth, and besides I've already made your wedding gift and it's one-of-a-kind, no takebacks, plus it's of the non-dividable variety, I mean you _could_ but it would be so awkward-'

'What? No, Tony, we didn't break up!'

Tony looked relieved, he put his goggles back on and he turned back to the arm after sending another nasty look to Bucky's way.

'Why you gotta give me a heart attack like that?!'

'You jumped to conclusions,' Bucky pointed it out, and Tony muttered something along the lines of 'not the one who loves jumping the most' which Bucky ignored, as he did with a lot of Tony's antics he couldn't understand. 'You made us wedding gifts?'

'I - what? Who, me? Nah, you know me better than that, why would you say something like that,' Tony babbled basically non-stop, but Tony babbled _fast_ when he was nervous, and Bucky knew that if his hands weren't full of - well, Bucky's hand, as it was - he would've been twisting them too.

'No, I know you better - I mean I know you _well,_ ' God, Tony was a bad influence on Bucky, 'and I know your wedding gift will be very inappropriate, over the top, but also somehow perfect for us.'

Tony blushed - did Tony actually blush anymore? But he did, and he avoided Bucky's eyes until Bucky gently kicked him, and then he looked like a kid who's been told he did good for the first time in his life.

Bucky wanted to go back in time and punch Howard in the face, _again_.

'But we aren't even engaged, according to Steve.'

'Not that I would know, of course, but isn't engagement supposed to be this team thing that you either both are or aren't?'

'...I suppose.'

'Did either of you propose to the other?'

'No.'

'Well then, you're not engaged. It's not engagement until one of you shows his commitment by a grand and uneconomical gesture that the whole city will see--'

Bucky's hand spasmed in Mary's fur, and she yapped.

'--or maybe you could just take him for an ice cream sandwich in Central Park, I suppose that's more your thing,' Tony conceded. 'But guys like you two should broadcast the moment to the evening news, just saying.'

'I _told_ Steve we've been engaged since nineteen- since _we were nineteen_ , but he said that doesn't count and he's also probably told Sam about it.'

Yeah, okay, so Steve probably didn't tell Sam about it because Steve is loyal to Bucky first, second and probably tenth, too; and also that conversation was about something else entirely and this kind of banter had been normal between them since 1931, no hard feelings.

Why did Bucky feel like he couldn't pass a test, then?

'Hm. To be fair that's probably what I would've said in your place,' Tony conceded, and that was a bad sign, a very bad sign, because Tony always lived on the edge of the spectrum: either he did nothing or did everything, and Bucky already felt he'd done nothing. 'But hey, an old-fashioned guy like Rogers probably expected flowers and candles and you on your knee.'

'I am on my knees pretty often, no need for extra occasions,' Bucky said, just to make Tony do his horrified slash disgusted face, complete with gagging noises.

~*~*~

Steve came home in the middle of the night, and of course both Bucky and the dogs were trained to react to the soft sounds that signalled his arrival: Mary by jumping to greet him, Bucky by scooting over in the bed (and thus getting a soft whine from Isaac as he accidentally elbowed him) to make room.

The mission must've been more exhausting than what Bucky gathered from hiking the system because Steve let the shield fall from his hand without any fanfare, then kicked it under the bed before falling right next to Bucky, unceremonious like a log. Bucky turned around and curled around him; Steve's hair was still damp from the shower he must've taken in the Helicarrier.

'Is everything OK?'

'Yeah,' Steve mumbled and squeezed Bucky's hand. 'You?'

Isaac climbed on top of their feet, but Steve was too exhausted to tell him off.

'Yeah,' Bucky echoed, knowing that Steve didn't miss the way the mutts sandwitched Bucky before his arrival. But he was okay, now especially, and so they fell back to sleep with the next deep breath.

~*~*~

That long mission sold Steve on the need for a third member of their little Cap Group hook, line and sinker. Him and a STRIKE team worked for almost two weeks as stealthily as possible, no stars and stripes needed, just the best tactician in history to ensure the success of an intel mission, in the end involving even a hostage extraction, somewhere around the Indian Ocean. With full success, thankfully, but the stress still had Steve sleeping for 32 straight hours.

And Bucky had been on call for Cap duty during that time, and was even called in for one press conference and one minor robbery attempt involving shrinking guns.

So Steve started checking in with Fury about his recruitment, only once or twice each meeting or call they had, and Fury, while having had comparatively more practice in dealing with an overly stubborn Steve than the rest of the world, got agitated quickly. This relentlessness served Steve right when he was ninety pounds soaking wet but still refused to die of things that finished men twice his size, and also when he managed to _persuade_ people to do what he wanted them to just by being annoying as hell, and it certainly came in handy when dealing with an equally headstrong equal - one did not become the director of SHIELD by rolling over and playing nice, after all.

It was a shame that Bucky didn't have that kind of relationship with anybody from work, because he would've loved to win some cash by betting on Steve wearing Fury out - which he eventually did.

About two weeks later they got a call and had to get down to HQ, and Fury presented them with a file of one 'Spirit of '76’ rather unceremoniously and petulantly. Inside next to pictures of a blond man who must've spent about 85% of his freetime in gyms doing heavy lifting were phrases such as "brilliant all-round athlete" and "superb hand-to-hand combatant". He prioritized physical training over everything, and indeed mastered an impressive number of martial arts and fighting styles. He also wore a bulletproof and fireproof cloak and when he went out superheroing at night, but hadn't managed to do anything more noteworthy than stopping a few robberies here and there.

Steve's eyes met Bucky's over the table, and they were instantly on the same page. Bucky, the analytic, knew this man wouldn't do. Steve, the tactician, knew not to tell this to Fury after just one look at the file.

'We'd like to see him in action,' he said.

Fury assembled a semi-makeshift gym complete with an interactive obstacle course, an icy swimming pool and a tightrope with flamethrowers overhead, but of course all in DC instead of the NYC building just to make Steve and Bucky’s life as hard as possible. Nevertheless Bucky instantly dubbed the new feature the auditorium and no matter how much Fury glared (ie. a _lot)_ , he didn't relent. He thought the pool filled with floating pieces of ice was an overkill and instinctively inched closer towards Steve whose nightmares often involved getting submerged in water and being frozen for a couple of decades. (Bucky thanked every deity for being spared of that specific type of hell as he'd already been unconscious due to bloodloss when Steve put the Valkyrie down.)

The Spirit of '76 run a spectacular time on the course. He put all that muscle weight to good use, and he not only proved to be able to dodge and roll and leap in avoidance of every machine in the room trying to get to him but he also used his brain to figure out the patterns and take preemptive measures.

Bucky was _mildly_ less skeptical of his potential than before.

'The best non-enhanced athlete in the US,' Fury declared smugly.

'Physically, he could keep up with a lot of what we deal with,' Steve allowed.

'He was okayed for field work by our shrinks,' Fury said, probably to cut ahead of things.

Well, the SHIELD shrinks okayed everybody whose presence in the field could save lives, so that had little importance in this stage.

'So what's left is our questionnaire,' Steve said.

Fury raised his eyebrows so high that even his eyepatch shifted.

'Your _questionnaire_.'

'Yeah,' Bucky pulled a folded (and slightly wrinkly) paper from his pocket and gave it to Fury. 'Just a quick thing to see how he thinks.'

Now Fury's eyebrows migrated closer to each other and the lines on his forehead formed trenches. 'He won't even be able to read this,' he looked up at Bucky finally who just shrugged.

'Couldn't risk digitalizing it, you know.'

'And computers are so baffling to use anyway,' Steve added innocently.

If there was a humane way to deepen the frown Fury already wore, he would've done it, Bucky was sure - but as it happened he just stormed off to handle the piece of handwritten questionnaire to a minion with a flare of his leather jacket.

They moved from the auditorium to a simple and classic interview room to watch Spirit of '76 from behind tinted glass. He barely broke a sweat and he wasn't breathing heavier than normal - he did, however, look perplexed over the piece of paper that was placed in front of him, added with a pen on top of the desk. Then he looked at his own reflection in the mirror and said, 'Is this a joke?'

'I assure you this is serious business,' Fury answered, pushing the button for the microphone. 'It's necessary for our SHIELD check-in regulations.'

For the sake of secrecy, general harmony of the universe and the peace of mind of everybody involved, Spirit of '76 hadn't been told that he was auditioning for the role of Cap.

He looked like he couldn't quite fathom what the questions had anything to do with - well, _anything_ , probably, and Bucky didn't blame him - then he just shrugged and started writing.

An hour later Bucky and Steve sat across from Fury in his office, heads bent over the questionnaire results.

'Look at that,' Bucky pointed. 'He said the most tragic death in any movie is Chris Kyle from _American Sniper_. That's not even an on-screen death!'

'His results indicate that he could master the handling of your shield,' Fury interrupted.

'He accepted our hypothesis that you need exceptional hacking skills to get into the Hammer Industries servers. It's not true - you only need average hacking skills, or a wirecutter,' Bucky said without looking up.

'He is our best candidate,' Fury said through gritted teeth.

'Sir,' Steve looked at him, 'he's not a creative thinker.'

Fury pressed a few buttons, and the recording from Spirit of '76's obstacle course run started playing. 'Isn't that creative enough for you?'

'He recognizes repetitive patterns, and he uses that to his advantage in field-imitating situations,' Bucky said. 'But he ran into each obstacle without stopping to take a look at first. He could've figured out the whole thing before he set foot on the rails first, but it never occurred to him.'

'And he never questioned our test questions,' Steve added. 'We put some ludicrous inaccuracies in there that, being a special SHIELD agent, _he should have recognized_.'

Fury's eyes narrowed at them. 'Are you seriously against him because he follows the rules too much?'

'No, it's because he thinks inside the box,' Steve said. 'His favorite colors are red, white and blue; his favorite animal is the bald eagle.'

'He wrote that he "wanted to help America's enemies learn from their mistakes" to why he was doing his thing,' Bucky added, waving the paper at Fury.

'That's straight out revenge and has absolutely zero focus on what's happening to those he should be protecting in the first place. A good soldier should fight because he loves those behind him, not because he hates those in front of him.'

Fury sighed, then sighed again for good measure. 'You're just doing this to make my life difficult.'

'No, we're doing this to make our lives easy by not having blood on our hands thanks to him taking missteps,' Bucky retorted.

'Well I say he'd be a presentable Cap,' Fury said.

Bucky opened his mouth to say he thought the Spirit of '76 would be a fucking horrible Cap, but Steve cut him off with a look. 'What if we don't agree?'

'Then I say this is the end of your little project.'

'That is blackmail.'

'No, it's a fair warning. Give him a chance or you won't have your own.'

Bucky was pretty sure his frown was mirrored on Steve's face - but there was hardly more to it.

~*~*~

'Who the hell calls himself the Spirit of '76 anyway? What even happened in '76 that was so spiritual?' Bucky asked Steve the next day over their chinese dinner they inhaled lounging in their living room, finally back at home.

'I have no idea, I was in ice with you,' Steve shrugged, and then they looked it up, and, _oh._ Of course this Spirit would take Jefferson’s side; of fucking course.

'The cape is more worrying thought,’ Steve swiftly moved past the Founding Fathers. ‘Has he not seen The Incredibles? There's a reason only telekinetic superpeople wear cloaks.'

'And mostly the insensible ones, just look at Magneto. The guy lives in red and purple, I mean bad fashion sense must be his secondary mutation or something.'

Steve nodded along. ‘He is the kind of Captain America wannabe who believed the propaganda reels.'

Bucky choked on the next bite of spring rolls, and Steve thumped him on the back a few times but to no avail: he was close to tearing up from his hiccupping laughter.

'Oh my god,' he said, doubling over with laughter, 'imagine how Iron Man would react!'

The look of terror on Steve's face just sent Bucky into another fit of hilarity.

'Let's pray that never happens,' Steve advised, and Bucky couldn't have been in more agreement with him.

~*~*~

The Spirit of '76 had to sign a ton of non-disclosure agreements before he was told what his audition had been for. He was ecstatic to learn that he was about to meet Steve (they decided it would be Steve to introduce him to Cap, since Bucky's strategy usually involved "shoot and be glad to be walking away first" which was _not_ something they wanted to encourage), then instantly made a bad impression when he tried to mask his fanboying by being a macho douche. Steve later told Bucky that he reminded Steve of Hodge, Col. Phillips's first candidate for the supersoldier program.

Steve gave the Spirit of '76 a rundown of what was expected of Captain America, which wasn't easy - the Spirit visibly blanched at the idea of breaking protocol and revealing first names for convenience's sake. But after Steve promptly introduced himself as Steve he had no other choice than to tell he was a William. He was more thrilled to exchange the cloak for the shield, though, and nodded along enthusiastically when Steve explained some moves. Bucky was facepalming from behind the smoked glass the entire time: this Will guy just gave him secondhand -embarrassment, especially when Steve started to actually show him how the shield was to be used. Will didn't seem to get the idea that one needed supersoldier stamina to throw it, even less that it was a _shield, you know, not meant for throwing in the first place_. But, to be fair, Steve never got that part of the memo either.

As defense weapons went, the shield had its advantages. The vibranium absorbed vibrations pretty well, so even a normal human could survive being hit by, say, Thor's hammer (not that Thor ever hit Steve after that initially unfortunate first meeting) but it was not a long-range weapon. So Will had to learn to wield it effectively, for which Steve and Bucky both practiced with him when they weren't on call.

Dear old Will not recognizing Bucky wasn't the Cap he met first and constantly calling him "Steve" was both hilarious and sad at the same time.

SHIELD decided to let Will go on a mission as Cap after a few weeks of intense training. They put him in a reinforced kevlar suit and had Steve hand him the shield, and sent him off his merry way.

'Well,' Bucky said, looking after the Quinjet, and Steve nodded.

They needn't have worried: the first mission went off without a hitch. Some Inhuman with minor powers decided to rob a bank, and the new Cap knocked them unconscious with a well-aimed punch. He looked remarkably like the real Cap while doing so, even though all the movements were off.

Still a longer probation was needed before they could assign regular shifts to Will, and so he helped with the cleanup and waved at the cameras after giant slugs wreaked havoc on 5th Ave (the slugs had been dealt with by Crossbones and Invisible Woman); successfully battled and defeated Isbisa with Toro, Human Torch and Miss America (although Isbisa got away _again_ ); and survived a press conference about the controversy of the new railway station murals (granted, Shadowcat was doing most of the talking, but still).

Not a bad start. Steve and Bucky got around to finishing their 5000pcs puzzle of the blueprints of the Enterprise, Bucky tried his hand in making a chocolate fire cake while Steve stood at the ready with a fire extinguisher, and they caught up with _Dog Cops_ on Netflix. All the extra hours to bring Will up to speed seemed to be worth it, even though they mentally prepared to don the suit and run to help in case something big happened while the news was on in the background.

And then Will encountered an angsty wannabe supervillain. Just a teenager, really, full of confusion that manifested in aggression and a gun that looked like a nerf gun, but had lighting and sparks buzzing around it. She wore a cheap sparkly mask around her eyes and threatened to blow up the fancier side of a mall because "down with the capitalist agenda" and "farewell to beauty standards". Bucky could've gotten behind her ideas if not for the civilians nearby.

The new Cap said what people usually say in movies: that she didn't have to do this, that there were other ways to change the world, that this wouldn't end well. All truths - and nothing that someone who went through all the effort and time of developing that gun and the whole parade that came with a homemade costume hadn’t already considered and then discarded.

She blew up two stores, half of the mall came down onto her, a dozen passers-by ended up in hospital.

Bucky and Steve watched the whole thing in HD on CNN. There was no point suiting up - by the time the dust cleared she was in custody and the headlines were already published. Nobody screamed murder - Cap wasn't all-knowing and invincible, not even when Steve or Bucky were underneath the mask. But Steve or Bucky - or hell, most of Fury's protegees would've been able to talk her down.

'God fucking damn it,' Steve said with feeling.

'It's not your fault, Steve,' Bucky said on reflex, even though he himself felt at blame too.

'It is, for not saying no to SHIELD when they recommended him,' Steve fumed, and went around looking for his things - phone, keys, helmet - aggressively throwing everything out of the way.

'It's SHIELD's fault for considering him in the first place,' Bucky retorted, following Steve around and making sure nothing got broken.

'I still shoulda said no,' Steve growled, 'in a way that would've made them listen.'

Bucky took a deep breath. 'Then it's my fault for wanting another Cap.'

Steve stopped dead. Then he turned around slowly, and his face - previously wrinkled with disgust - transformed to shock and despair.

'I didn't mean it like that,' he said, soft.

'I did,' Bucky admitted quietly. Steve stepped closer. 'I feel like this is my fault too. She caused personal injury and the criminal procedure will be of a supervillain - and if we'd been there we could've - but you know where this line of thinking leads, and you know what Sam would say.'

Steve hung his head. 'Not to.'

'Yeah. This'll happen until we find the right person, but. We need to. We need a backup.'

'I know,' Steve sighed, and let Bucky pull him close and draw his arms around him. 'SHIELD will be mad.'

'SHIELD can suck my dick,' Bucky sad. 'They shouldn't put us up with morons. We _told_ them Will wasn't fit for the job. We'll make them listen next time.'

Which is why they showed up at SHIELD that evening, requesting a special meeting with Fury - who, to his credit, seemed to have been expecting them already.

'What's gonna happen to her?' Steve asked upfront.

'Well, causing mild trauma and short term healing wounds to civilians means about six months in the Raft,' Fury said with clear disapproval. 'Which she wouldn't have to serve if someone convinced her dropping half a mall on people is a bad idea.'

'People usually don't need to be told that dropping a mall on living beings is a bad thing to do,' Bucky retorted. 'But I agree, Steve or I could've talked her down.'

'Good,’ Fury said. ‘I hope you see why your candidate should go back to being the Spirit of '76.'

'He was _your_ candidate,' Steve said. 'You noted our concerns.'

'I'm noting them now too,' Fury's eyes narrowed. 'Your experiment almost cost-'

'No,' Bucky stopped him mid-sentence. 'You don't get to pin this on us. We - we're both human, Fury. We can't always be everywhere. We've been through this.'

Fury looked Steve dead in the eye - weird, considering Fury was amongst the first who realized that neither Captains America was willing to roll over and let others stomp over him for anything, let alone intimidation. 'You want me to find another one.'

'Yes,' Steve said without hesitation.

Fury's lips thinned into a frown, but Bucky knew he would comply - for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. So back in October I had this thought of 'what if Bucky and Steve rercruited the thrid Cap mostly so that they could go on honeymoon' and[ @menatiera ](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/)screaming encouragingly and I started writing. Originally I only wanted to poke fun at the comics for having super LAME guys for Cap and it was supposed to be a ~10k oneshot but it somehow grew a plot, character arcs and is now over a 100k, so, fair warning: this gonna be a loooong journey. (Honestly I still don't feel ready to post this but in light of certain movies coming out, ehm, this week, and the fact that I never feel ready to be done with whatever I'm doing today's as good a day as any.)
> 
> All the Cap recruits are and will be from the comis; I had many field days with researching and laughing at what idiots tried their hands at wearing the stars and stripes XD (you get brownie points if you spot Hamilton references tho)
> 
> This is a good place to mention that while Bucky isn't an unreliable narrator per se, he is very, very biased and his opinions are not mine (see cultural appropriation, amputees, bloggers, etc.). Hopefully his views will evolve as we go along ;) Also one arm is apparently ~6% of the human body, but artistic liberties were taken.
> 
> The sukiyaki recipe is from [Junskitchen ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdNqWcUdm6I)and the dog treat ideas are from [Gone to the Snow Dogs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOy9NVbKb-g&;list=PL400F1C1759E6AF49)
> 
> Everything's written apart from the epilogue, only the editing to be done, so hopefully I'll post regularly :) The plan is to have CH2 up at the end of next week!
> 
> Sidenote: my native still isn't English so please feel free to (kindly) point out mistakes that a native speaker would know :)  
> You can find me on [tumblr ](http://cpt-winniethepooh.tumblr.com/)too!
> 
> And please please please comment if you feel up to it, I live for your feedback!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the subplots and the snark thicken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again huge thanks to [@menatiera](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/) for the help and the cheerleading and the beta and for[ @araydre](araydre.tumblr.com) for the beta too!!!!!
> 
> Warning: this chapter contains canon-compliant mentioned past trauma(s) in a non-graphic way.

Fury seemingly went into overdrive from the fear of having Steve on call less in the future because he put him on three missions in a row, and long ones for that. Or maybe he was thinking of milking Steve for all he had while possible, Fury was sneaky like that. Either way, their normal schedule flew out of the window and Steve was away at first for five days on a mission that left his eyes hollow and his posture hunched while Bucky waited and smoked and blasted Taylor Swift, taking full advantage of their soundproofed walls. Then he had half a day to try his best to cook some life into Steve when he got back by way of excessive amounts of muffins while the idiot dozed off on the couch, but the mini-pies were still steaming hot out of the oven when the pager beeped and a den of loudly glimmering prehistoric reptiles invaded New York. Not in that order, but if anybody could’ve arranged a specific sequence just to make their lives hell it would have been SHIELD.

Bucky actually called Fury to chew him another one for requesting Steve on the site _after half a day rest, are you insane, Sir_ , but Fury had a point: Steve was much better equipped to deal with _beaming_ dinos - no, that's not it. Steve was much better equipped to deal with Black Widow, Hawkeye, Thor, the Hulk and yes, even Iron Man, than Bucky. Managing a team effectively required a leader, and a Leader Steve was with a capital L, and sure enough, the Earth was saved by a bunch of ridiculously named superheroes (even Ant-Man and The Thing showed up, and seriously, this was getting out of hand) with Captain America behind the wheel. God Bless America!

Steve slept for over 36 hours straight afterwards, wearing nothing but his sweatpants and Mary and Isaac (and Bucky) for good measure.

Then another stealth mission came up, and both Bucky and Steve had been just _done_ for different, yet rhyming reasons: Bucky for being left alone and Steve for leaving Bucky alone again. (Yeah, okay. Bucky was also done because hadn't Steve done enough? But tremble the day when Steve Rogers decided that he did all he could and there was nothing else to do, so. Bucky settled on being done for having to be alone again.)

Steve had actually had to rouse Bucky from a nightmare one night just a few nights before, which, while not being unusual, was definitely less common than in the immediate aftermaths of Azzano and the plane crash, respectively, and especially rare when Steve was there, and so Steve started worrying again. The annoyingly stubborn mother hen attitude Bucky fell victim to transcended into guilt-projecting remorse when the pager beeped and starving children needed to be saved in Africa or something, as a result of which Steve left Bucky with not only the mutts but also with a message to Tony, apparently, because the genius called him the very next afternoon. That was still better than the alternative, though, ie. Steve calling Sam to check in on him.

'I'm sorry, I'm locked out of the workshop,' Tony said apologetically, gesturing to his left hand which was covered in a blue cast and fastened to his chest. 'Pepper bribed JARVIS so I can't tinker.' He sounded incredibly put-out, which Bucky could relate to.

'What have you done, Tony.'

'Nothing, I swear, not my fault! It's just this new thing I'm working on and how was I supposed to know it would _backfire in my hands_?'

Bucky shook his head. 'Did you give yourself second-degree burns as well?'

'That is uncalled for, Barnes. _Un-called-for_. I'll have you know that the _prototype_ gave me _first-degree_ burns, and the table into which I flew back broke my wrist.'

Bucky couldn't decide between groaning and laughing. 'You are worse than Steve.'

A shadow passed on Tony's face - come to think about it, he had huge black circles under his eyes, and he looked absolutely wretched. Bucky hoped it was just the quality of the call, but of course not: Stark equipment was better than that.

'Tony, when was the last time you slept?'

'I wanted to finish that prototype!' Tony hissed when he realized he shouldn't even try to move his arm, but gesticulating came with excitement for him. 'It would've been important! And Rhodey also chewed me another one, so be nice, I'm handicapped like you anyway!'

'Wanna watch bad slasher horror and eat an unhealthy amount of popcorn?' Bucky asked, and Tony studied him for a moment before he nodded.

'Okay, alright. We could do that.'

Tony missed Pepper as much as Bucky missed Steve (as the head of SI, she had to attend some business meeting in LA) so they stacked up on popcorn and coffee and had JARVIS dim the lights for maximum atmosphere efficiency. Luckily they were both equally critical in terms of human behavior and stupidity, so making fun of the movies became a way more enjoyable pastime than the movies themselves.

They curled up on the couch in Tony's private level on the Tower, and Bucky always loved the lights of the city from this angle. The familiarity of the busy streets calmed him even despite the fact that Tony was practically vibrating next to him. Bucky understood his restlessness, but at the same time Tony was only human - he needed to let his body heal. His cast was secured to his chest with some gauze as a semi-useful way to prevent Tony from flailing and thus hurting himself even more.

He must've been in more pain than he let on, but at least Bucky was able to talk him into taking the prescribed painkillers during the second movie of the night, and Tony was out like a light before the first half of the flick - just to awake trembling and gasping right before the credits. He jerked when he looked at Bucky and he obviously didn't recognize him at first, just tried to put as much distance between them as possible, and Bucky barely had the chance to call his name when he came back to himself.

'...sorry,' Tony panted, and scrubbed his face with his free hand.

'S'okay, I get it,' and he did, boy, he did. 'Nightmare?'

Why did people always ask that? _No, it's not a nightmare, I woke up panicking because I had this amazing dream about kittens_. Bucky mentally rolled his eyes at himself.

'Yeah, just, this stupid explosion today,' Tony now grabbed at his own cast, and Bucky had to restrain himself from reaching out to stop him. Everybody was entitled to their own antics.

Tony obviously had his own issues, only a fraction of which could be traced back to Howard - something the media was somehow blind to. Bucky didn't pry, mostly because then Tony would pry too, and that way lay only trouble. He tried to learn to sidestep Tony's triggers just as much as Tony sidestepped his, and this unspoken deal lead to a much more efficient relationship between the two than what Bucky and Howard ever had - or, _hell_ , Bucky and _anybody_ had, Steve excluded.

'I know the feeling, pal,' Bucky said softly, and Tony looked up. 'I had... two nightmares this week. About when I lost the arm,' he lifted his left hand.

Well, mostly about when he lost the arm. But even if Tony had known the exact circumstances, Bucky wouldn't have elaborated about reliving that pain - the extraterrestrial blue glow of the HYDRA weapons cutting into his flesh and m _aking the whole arm disappear._ He screamed as he fell to his knees on the hard metal of the Valkyrie, then to his side, and he tried to grab at his left with his right but there was air, then raw flesh, burning and blood _everywhere -_

Then Steve was there, oh God, he'd killed the last goons and the cube took care of the Red Skull, and then he tried to cut off the bleeding, give first-aid, do anything, but there was no way Bucky was going to survive this, and the plane still flew, the bombs still had the names of America’s largest cities, and with the Red Skull  HYDRA fell but the war wasn't won, the job wasn't done, and so -

\- and so Bucky told Steve to do what he had to do. He found Steve's hand and held it strong for a moment with the last of his strength, and in that touch was everything he wanted to say - that he loved Steve, that he wouldn't have had it any other way, even then; and Steve understood like he always had, leaned in to kiss him for the last time in his life, and when Bucky blacked out he drove the Valkyrie into the icy cold Atlantic with every  intention to die after him.

Imagine their shock when they were both defrosted seventy years later, perfectly alive and only with a missing arm on Bucky's part.

'Listen, uh, I know I'm not the best at this but if you wanna talk...' Tony put his hand on Bucky's shoulder and squeezed, and Bucky came back to the present.

'Nah, I'm good,' he said. 'But if you wanna...'

Tony considered him, then shook his head. 'Why don't we watch another one?'

And so they did.

~*~*~

Steve fell into Bucky's arms with almost all his weight when he stepped out of the elevator. He buried his face in Bucky's neck and held on so tight that he would've broken an ordinary human's ribs - just the way Bucky craved.

'That bad?' Bucky asked, after a while. He didn't follow what happened after the initial that the mission was a success, and more importantly, over.

'Mm,' Steve said. 'Iron Man didn't show up. We had to wait an extra day for War Machine.'

Yeah, Bucky heard that, and knew that Steve would bring it up the next time he came mask to mask with Iron Man. He himself was less than joyed; when he took the dogs for a walk that afternoon he ruined two cigs by chewing instead of smoking.

'But you at least like War Machine.'

War Machine - Bucky'd never understand who named superheroes; then again, people running around in masks at night were never very sane to begin with, so maybe it was fitting - had clear military origins, which meant that he worked successfully with Bucky, and worked effectively with Steve if the two were given clear orders about rank order beforehand. Truly, War Machine's greatest flaw was that he participated in Iron Man's stunts with visible amusement. Maybe that's why he got assigned to Bucky's missions more than Steve's.

'Yeah. But he and Crossbones didn't get on well.'

'No wonder,' Bucky muttered.  Crossbones was to Bucky what Iron Man was to Steve: hard to work together with and the sucker of all joy in life. For different reasons, of course, mainly that Iron Man only came across as an entitled rich white man (not that any part of his skin was visible, but c’mon, his behavior _screamed_  privilege) whereas Crossbones was the epitome of a “manly man” with the general atmosphere of an unpleasant soul suffocating those around him. ‘Did you try to punch him too?’

‘I didn’t,’ Steve looked affronted, then added, ‘...need to. He made a sexist comment about our handlers and War Machine threatened to tell Commander Hill. That shut him up fast.’

‘Good,’ Bucky said. Truth be told both Crossbones and Iron Man could’ve been worse, much, _much_ worse: if they had been deliberately malicious instead of just being casually problematic. Still, Bucky would’ve exchanged Crossbones for Iron Man any day, but at least Cap usually outranked them both.

'Hey, I was thinking,' Steve nuzzled his neck again.

'That never ends well.'

'Ha-ha. So I was thinking that we should go to Australia for our honeymoon.'

Bucky pulled back. 'Rogers, last time I brought this up you complained that we aren't even engaged.'

Steve blushed beautifully, even after all these years, and he gave Bucky a boyish grin that had Bucky's heart skip a few beats.

'You were right, we've been engaged since the thirties. Technically we're married in everything but name.'

Bucky kissed him, long and deep and languid. 'You still deserve a nice proposal, though.'

Steve shrugged, but his pupils were dilated. 'You know I'll say yes anyway.'

'I do. Why Australia?'

'Because it's far away and I want at least one uninterrupted week with you.'

Their next kiss was only broken so that they could migrate to the bedroom and lock the dogs out to have a well-deserved celebration together.

~*~*~

Fury made another vain attempt to divert them from recruiting, then tossed the whole project to Hill and claimed he had more important things to do. Bucky didn't know where SHIELD agents were trained, or how, for that matter, but Hill was no less immune to being impressed by Captains America than Fury. Why all the SHIELD dames turned out to be scary and beautiful with perfect aim also escaped Bucky, but he considered Hill to be a step-up from Coulson's hero-fetish that made both Steve and himself very uncomfortable - especially some of his costume designs.

(Seriously, all the big ones turned out to be softies on the inside, like The Thing or The Hulk - yeah, okay, maybe not The Hulk, but Colossus, definitely. The guy once spent three hours after a battle discussing modern art theory with Steve. Bucky approved - any day that didn't end with Steve angering some giant was a win. But the small, unassuming-looking ones one had to keep an eye on, like Black Widow, or Peggy Carter, or hell, any of the X-women.)

So scattered over the next few months Hill presented them with about a dozen files of possible Captains, and just to make their quest as hard as possible, they had to drive to DC for every single one of them. After a while, they forewent the train, left the dogs at Craig’s, their semi-regular dogsitter, and took the Harleys out for a drive. At least they got to enjoy the wind in their faces and the road beneath the tires, and once in DC they parked Steve’s at HQ and took smaller trips from there with Steve pressing up against Bucky and Bucky leaving all rational thought behind for the time being.

Hill was less hung on the candidates’ physical attributes (though all happened to be relatively tall and muscular) and more focused on men whose skills could be expanded to fit the role, though each candidate still seemed as if they could score at a bodybuilder contest as well. She also conducted personal interviews that included but were not limited to the _Cap Questionnaire,_ and some contestants performed impressively in the auditorium too. But there was always - always something.

Take the fourth contestant, for instance, Agent Mace. Besides being a superb athlete and hand-to-hand combatant he was also a licensed pilot, something not necessary for the role but which could come in handy anytime. He projected confidence and the will to help those in need during the interview with Hill, spoke nicely about trust and teamwork and the air of authority around him wasn't suffocating but supporting.

But he also happened to be the nephew of Thaddeus Ross, the previous Secretary of State and - no. There was no way a figure as iconic as Cap should get tied in with domestic politics, and definitely not on the Republican side of things.

'He's been a valued member of Coulson's field agents and he goes by the Patriot when he’s on special missions, and Secretary Ross never once used his image,' Hill objected to their concern.

'That's because the Patriot's not very famous for an image,' Bucky said, which Hill rewarded with a stonefaced yet somehow still disappointed look.

'Look, we are only told these field agents’ real names is because their superhero aliases are either nonexistent or just aren't noteworthy enough,' Steve said, 'and whoever will be the third in our team will know our real identities as well. We can't work with someone whose uncle is a powerful politician who tries to ban not only superhero-work on a regular basis but is also opposed to same-sex relationships.'

Hill crossed her arms. 'Mace has been known for his support of gender, race, sexual and even terrestrial equality.'

'And Ross called for the institutionalization of his own daughter when she spoke up in support of superheroes, especially The Hulk,' Steve said. 'Look, Commander Hill, so far Mace really seems the best choice, but someone without high political connections would be ideal.'

'You realize this is like dating, right?' Hill asked. 'You will never find the perfect one, only someone who's good enough.'

Bucky took a deep breath and donned his most indignant expression, but Steve puffed himself up and cut ahead.

'With all due respect, ma'am,' he said with indeed a respectful voice but which somehow implied that nothing sort of respectful will follow, 'I think I found the "perfect one" alright, and I don't intend on settling for less here, either.'

Bucky blushed so hard that he was beet-red even when they got home two hours later.

~*~*~

'D'ya think the next one will be better?' Steve asked between throwing his punch and blocking Bucky's counter.

'Hope so,' Bucky said, then dodged instead of trying to land another hit, because Steve used him talking as a distraction - as Bucky had known he would - and avoided getting a fist to his ribs. Then he started advancing, to some degree to prevent Steve having time to chat, and also because he _loved_  sparring with Steve.

They were pretty evenly matched, all things considered. Steve's serum was better, but Bucky had better training in the beginning. Their experiences evened those initial differences out, although Steve still used techniques meant people half his size, and Bucky had the metal arm; but they were both top special and field agents of SHIELD with minds made for combat, and so, in the end, it boiled down to a battle of brains instead of brawns, no matter how physical their fight looked.

And boy, was it physical.  

It took Bucky around forty-five minutes and every single set of skills he owned to pin Steve to the ground, and he knew he'd have bruises on his arms and ribs for a couple of hours from Steve's succesful hits. But so would Steve, especially on his thigh from Bucky's kick - he never was as good as blocking kicks without the shield, which was one of the reasons why they both wanted to practice without it. But finally Steve had both hands trapped in Bucky's grip and Bucky's solid weight keeping him down, and Bucky grinned.

'Your legwork still leaves things to be desired,' he said, half-mockingly. 'Makes you vulnerable.'

Then Steve, the little shit, cocked an eyebrow, said, 'Yeah?', then thrust his hips upward as much as he could.

Bucky's eyes narrowed. 'That wouldn't work in the field.'

'We're not in the field,' Steve countered, then did it again.

'What do you want, Rogers,' Bucky growled, used his left to keep both of Steve's arms above his head, and his right to circle Steve's neck.

'You,' Steve breathed raggedly, although Bucky did not block his airway, and Bucky rolled his eyes but a wave of warmth ran through him at the words all the same.

'Sap,' Bucky nuzzled behind his ear, still keeping position. 'You have me. And I have you, _pinned_.'

'I want you in me,' Steve said, then used Bucky's momentary shock to roll them over.

'You little shit,' Bucky breathed.

'And yet you were criticising my legwork,' Steve gloated, but his pupils were blown wide as a mile as his legs tightened around Bucky's hips, grinding down directly, and fine, Bucky could use this other form of exercise too.

~*~*~

Candidate #6 was born as William Burnside, but legally renamed himself John C. America, and he also had multiple operations to ensure that he physically resembled what was visible underneath the mask of Steve on the scarce footage remaining from WWII. It was so bizarre that both Bucky and Steve studied his file with open mouths.

'He wanted to look like me,' Steve said in a week voice.

'He wanted to _be_ you,' Hill corrected.

 _Jesus_.

'This is a new level,' Bucky said. 'He even puts Coulson to shame.'

'He's a wrestling champion,' Hill said, undeterred, 'and his Captain America impressions were so authentic that when you two were found, some suspected it was him and not the real deal.'

'Jesus,' Bucky said.

'Then why is he only the 6th and not the 1st we were shown?' Steve asked.

'He is developing paranoid schizophrenia,' Hill answered, and frankly, Bucky wasn't even surprised. Or at least not surprised at either the schizophrenia or the fact that SHIELD still considered him a legit possibility. The plastic surgeries though... 'He is undergoing treatment and is stable for the moment. Our main concern is that he's extremely paranoid of - well, the minorities.'

Bucky and Steve looked each other, then back to Hill. 'You do realize I'm Jewish, he's Irish _and_ Catholic and we're both queer, right?' Bucky asked her.

'There's a chance that he will respond to the Captain America authority positively,' Hill said.

'Worldviews don't change that drastically,' Steve said, shaking his head. 'Ma'am, he's _obsessed_. If he finds out that his icon doesn't live up to his image of the icon - which he will, the moment he meets either me or Bucky, and he already has it out for the underdogs - that won't be pretty.'

'He'll want to kill us after he deems us "unworthy"', Bucky added, 'and you know who will walk away from that fight and who won't.'

For the first time since they started this recruitment business, Hill looked like she actually approved their decision.

~*~*~

'I cannot believe he underwent operations to look like me,' Steve said back at Central Park when they leisurely took their walk and watched the dogs goof around. His shoulders pulled up tense after the latest round of failed auditions, like always when coming face to face with how certain people interpreted Captain America, though the ride back helped to clear his head, just like it did with Bucky’s.

'Me neither,' Bucky agreed. 'Who'd want to see your ugly mug every day in the mirror?'

Steve allowed a weak smile and Bucky bumped his shoulder.

'I hate when people use the Cap image to further their own agenda,' Steve said with sudden passion.

People using Cap’s image was one thing; institutions a completely different. But of course, SHIELD wouldn’t see it that way. Superhero wannabees signed up because Captain America used to be their childhood hero, and they weren’t gonna say no to the volunteers, not when more field agents and backup staff was always needed.

'Yeah. But hey, at least we get to decide who we wanna work with.'

Steve huffed as if to say let them try not to. Then he got quiet again, and there was something disconcerting about such a big guy being silent - or maybe just to Bucky who'd witnessed too many loud moments with Steve to want anything else.

'Do you think maybe we should come out?' he asked.

Bucky stopped to look at him, and after a step or two, Steve turned back too. 'Steve, we're the most "out" guys ever. We'd only be more out if we had the rainbow flag tattooed on our foreheads.'

Bucky loved when Steve tried (and failed) using the disappointed Captain America face on him.

'You know how I meant.'

'No, I don't, because you can't possibly be serious.'

'Why not?'

'How many gay - or queer - superheroes do you know of?' Bucky asked.

'None. And that's the point! Who do little kids and members of minorities look up to when they wanna see themselves? We could give them that chance!'

Bucky wanted to yell at Steve that only the villains got to be gay, and Cap coming out wouldn't change the status quo, it'd just put them on the villain roster - but Steve would take that as a challenge.

'Steve. Cap coming out would change things, but I'm not sure it'd be for the better.'

Steve had a face that said he would make sure that things would be different for the better.

'Seriously, Steve, I know you feel the need to tackle every bully in a fifty thousand mile radius, but you cannot cure the world from homophobia,' Bucky said urgently, and feeling like he was watching a crash - one that could've been avoided if only the driver turned the wheel or stepped on the breaks, but no, that just wasn't in the driver’s personality. And he wondered, not for the first and certainly not for the last time in his life, how he would feel if - when - he saw Steve die out of stubbornness for some noble reason that didn't even require his death as a sacrifice.

Steve sensed his desperation, because he stepped close again and laced their fingers together, and for this only, the future was already worth it.

'I can try,' Steve said softly.

'Yeah, and I get you, you idiot,' Bucky smiled. 'I have just as many stickers from Pride as you do. I even help paint the signs and everything.'

'Wow, you make it sound as if you don't care about gay rights,' Steve said teasingly.

They sidestepped some runners, still holding hands.

'I do care,' Bucky said, which Steve knew perfectly well - Bucky could stand idly and watch no more than Steve. 'I just remember criminal procedures and back-alley beatings clear as day. And I know it never stopped you, but it made me careful enough to allow you never stopping.'

A complicated set of emotions flashed over Steve's face which Bucky, in a very unusual manner, couldn't decipher.

'Is this really-' Bucky started, then re-started. 'Do you really wanna come out?'

'Not if it makes you uncomfortable,' Steve said, which was exactly what Bucky thought it would be.

'Let's get married first,' Bucky said. 'At least - whatever happens - we'd have that.'

Steve halted and used their laced fingers to position Bucky so they'd be face to face. 'Would you do that?'

'How's that even a question,' Bucky rolled his eyes. 'Till the end of the line, remember?'

Steve's face was usually open in the sense that it was openly earnest to prove himself, otherwise it'd been a hardened mask since the age of 15. But sometimes - usually in private, during great emotional compromise, or at the sight of a pre-dada style avantgarde painting (or all of these combined) -, his face threw the mask off to show the soul underneath, as it happened just now, and Steve's eyes shone bright and the raw hope and love and gratitude almost blew Bucky off of his feet.

'Let's also make sure we have the next Cap appointed, in case shit hits the fan,' Steve's voice hit a newly deep and scratchy level.

Bucky swallowed and nodded. 'We need to change course for that.'

'Yeah. I cannot believe who they are considering for the role - it's like a selection of bullheads! So arrogant, so self-righteous, so convinced their way is the golden one-' Steve stopped mid-rant when Bucky snorted. 'What?'

'Steve, _Stevie_ ,' Bucky huffed. 'Are you hearing yourself?'

'What?'

Bucky shook his head, partly to clear it a bit. 'You are the most self-righteous person I know. You think you know better than anybody - you think you know e _verything_ better than anybody.'

'That's not true!' Steve protested, and Bucky couldn't believe how Steve could've missed this. 'I ask for help when I need it!'

'Only with technical stuff, but not with ethical questions,' Bucky pointed out, and that shut Steve right up. 'You're willing to go up against SHIELD because they're not "marriage equality" enough. You're dickishly stubborn, too.'

Steve blinked at Bucky like he was seeing him for the first time. 'Am I a bully, too?' he asked in a carefully neutral tone.

'No. But you are arrogant when it comes to trusting yourself but not trusting anybody else. Not even me, when it's a wrong you have to right.'

'What does that make you, then?'

'The idiot who's willing to follow you anywhere?' Bucky asked, even though he knew damn well it wasn't a question, not on his side at least. 'All I'm sayin' is that it's not a problem if the next recruit has a complex. That, or like, the lack of that doesn't make Captain America.'

'What makes Captain America, then?' Steve asked with jaws squared.

'His heart,' Bucky said simply. 'We just have to find the guy with the right heart. The rest doesn't matter that much.'

The fight left Steve at once. 'I don't think I know better than everybody,' he said. 'You clearly know this better than me.'

Bucky smiled fondly. 'A sniper's eye.'

Steve pecked a kiss on his lips - a chaste one, muscle memory; he was obviously still distant thanks to today's decisions, so they called the dogs and headed home.

~*~*~

Bucky opted out of running the next morning due to the heavy downpour of rain. Steve, undeterred, went alone - the dogs loved water, but washing and drying them after a good roll in the mud would've taken all day, so they whined at the door after Steve closed it behind him then climbed back on the bed and over Bucky.

He hated running in less than ideal weather - hell, he hated running in general and just endured it out of sheer necessity, to be fair. And he also had a call to make.

Calling Tony was a wild shot each time - he might have been wide awake at 4am and fast asleep at 4pm, but Bucky trusted JARVIS to know best.

Tony answered on the first ring.

'Buckingham! How can I help you on this fine Thursday afternoon?'

'...Tony, it's 6am on Friday. How long have you been awake?'

There was a pause.

'Longer than Pepper would approve. But my cast has been just removed, can you blame me for wanting to spend as much time in the center of my heart, aka the workshop, from wherein I've been cruelly banished, as possible?'

'Well, no - and hey, congrats!' Bucky thought the cast should only come off the next week, but maybe Tony healed faster than the doctors predicted, or - more likely - he just annoyed them into taking it off.

'Thanks, I mean it's a shame we don't match anymore in terms of appendages but it's nice to be able to move freel- heyyy, if it's 6am, why are you on the phone with me instead of being in bed with tall, blond and patriotic? Did you guys have a fight? Did you have a _breakup_?'

Tony's voice became increasingly higher towards the end.

'No, Tony, no - stop having breakup-freakouts! Everything's good.'

'Oh good, because, as I've said, my wedding present is-'

'That's why I'm calling,' Bucky could hear the smile in his own voice, 'I actually want to propose, properly.'

'Oooooh,' Tony _squealed_. 'Please tell me there'll be roses and candles involved!'

'Well-'

'I have this thing in the best restaurant in New York, I call them and I have a table free for the night, hey, you know, I can lend you a hand - _literally_ , but figuratively as well-'

'No, Tony, thank you, we'll have something... smaller,' Bucky said. He loved Tony, he really did, but the man was just so over the top sometimes. His heart of gold and his actual good intentions made up for nearly all of his overcompensating, though.

'Oh,' Tony sounded put-out, and Bucky reminded himself that Steve had to be the satisfied one in this scenario - Steve and Bucky both, and they did enough of parading around as it was. 'Why do you even hang around if you can't take advantage of a billionaire?'

'Yes, clearly your money is the only interesting thing you have to offer,' Bucky sassed back. 'Why are you this invested in our engagement anyway? Besides the present you had no idea about being actually necessary...'

Tony harrumphed. 'My favorite grandpas are finally tying the knot! C'mon, Buckbeak, there was no way you two weren't going to say yes.'

'We are actually younger than you, you know,' Bucky lied, but he also laughed - God, Tony was such a _dork_.

'No you're not,' Tony said without missing a beat. 'He wears khakis and you didn't know what Star Wars was when we met. _Or_ Star Trek. Nobody but 90-years-olds do that anymore.'

'Yeah, okay, point,' Bucky pillowed his head on Mary because his fit of laughter sent Isaac to the foot of the bed. 'Listen, Tony, can you design a ring for my left ring finger?'

'How is that even a question,' Tony retorted, 'Can I design a ring. You wound me, you honestly wound me-'

'A _simple_ band,' Bucky stressed. Knowing Tony he'd get a diamond the size of a small horse and worth more than all of his backpay. Then he thought better of it. '...maybe engraved on the inside?'

'I think we can do pretty much whatever after I figure out how to make precious metals compatible with your plates,' Tony waved, Bucky could just tell. 'Or you want titanium? Less traditional but more comfortable for your line of work.'

Like Sam, Tony was aware of their PPD operations, but not the exact nature.

And while they could've been wearing rings under the Cap gloves, it didn't sound too mission-friendly - although with their supersoldier physique it probably wouldn't do much harm.

'We haven't talked about that,' Bucky admitted. 'But no matter what we told you you'd just present about 20 ideas anyway, right?'

'Right,' Tony agreed. 'Wanna come over brainstorm sometime?'

'You just got your cast off, Tony, I'm sure you have more pressing concerns.'

'Are you kidding me, I am itching to get my hands on you - in a purely platonic way, of course, we each have our respective blondes to think of... But you got me, my weekend's full. Next week?'

'I'll bring the dogs over,' Bucky promised, and Tony protested "the dog hair everywhere" just as a front, and they agreed on a date.

~*~*~

Next on the list was U. S. Agent.

They stared at the name until Hill explained that "Agent" was indeed part of his superhero alias, not just his title in SHIELD.

'What's the catch?' Bucky asked, because by that point they had a mutual understanding that all candidates came with some pretty impressive baggages.

'He's... not a team player,' Hill replied. 'We've received complaints because of his abrasive behavior and domineering personality multiple times. Of course for solo missions, he would be ideal, but unless he becomes more modest he wouldn't be fit for cooperative work, which saving the world usually requires.' She took a deep breath, and Bucky braced himself. 'He is also very vocally anti-Captain America at the moment.'

'Then why is he even on the list?' Steve said.

'Because there's hope that meeting the "real" Captain America,' Hill nodded towards Steve, 'he could see the error of his ways.'

 _Great_. Way to put even more weight on Steve's shoulders.

'I didn't know SHIELD was so big on hope,' Bucky said, not even trying to tone down the sarcasm in his voice.

'SHIELD was _founded_ on hope,' Hill retorted snippily. 'By your Agent Carter who hoped to help superheroes like you, but hope never kept it alive. U. S. Agent had been the most pro-Afghanistan person on the planet, but now he's a loud protester against it. The psychological evaluation shows that it's within realistic expectations that he'd be a good Cap.'

'Doesn't he and, what was the last one's name, Patriot? Don't they have a lovechild? Because that would be amazing: just the right mixture of wanting to be Cap too much and hating the guy's guts.'

Steve must've had similar thoughts because he only looked at Bucky disapprovingly instead of calling him out on the tone; maybe he felt the sting of what Hill said about Peggy too. Because yes, after seeing how the US government exploited Steve and how little control superheroes had of their own image - see Bucky and how he was portrayed in the comics as an _actual bear_ , not that anybody was aware of his enhancement apart from Peggy - she wanted to make sure that didn’t happen to any other superhero. And sure, she had to use Cap’s legacy, when she thought Steve was dead, to achieve her goals, and she named SHIELD for a reason, but coming back to life Steve was in even less charge of Cap than he had ever been.

Hill was less appreciative of Bucky’s quips.

'Look, we're doing this for you in the first place, it's not like walking into a store and pulling the Captain America replica off the shelf.'

'You need to widen the pool,' Steve said. 'Colonel Phillips would never have picked me based on my physique-'

'We cannot put a 90-pounds-soaking-wet into your suit,' Hill protested.

'We don't want that, he'd break his arm trying to use the shield,' Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

'But someone with the right mindset could at least take over the parts where it's more about the icon than the actual strength,' Steve said. Bucky felt like they already had this conversation before with Fury. 'For starters. And we can work on combat abilities in the meantime.'

Hill gritted her teeth.

'That seems even more work for you.'

'It's worth for free weekends in the long run,' Steve cracked a smile that Hill didn't return.

'Give U. S. Agent a try,' she finally said. 'And I'll widen your pool in the meantime.'

~*~*~

So that meant regular and more frequent visits to DC again. Bucky almost considered getting a flat there - with their salaries they could've easily afforded one - but no way was he going to actually move to the middle of nowhere. DC wasn't even a real city, not compared to New York, just a joke disguising itself as a city. Especially compared to Brooklyn. Brooklyn had _culture._

So besides spending 10 hours in traffic there and back thrice a week, their options remained staying with Sam or renting a hotel room.

Bucky hated DC so, so much.

'We'd be there for a while, Sam, a couple of days at least,' Steve argued on the phone. 'We can't do that to you.'

'Will your lesser half bake for us? Because I can put up with him as long as he brings the kitchen,' Bucky's superhearing picked up Sam's words, somewhat muffled but still understandable. 'And the dogs. It's much more fun running with them than alone.'

'Hey, and what about running with me?'

'You show off too much how much more you can run in one go, and you're faster too,' Sam said. 'Makes me look bad by comparison.'

Actually, Steve could've run three times faster than Sam, maybe even more, but not unless he wanted to expose how non-human he was.

'Keep telling yourself that it’s my fault you look bad,' Steve said cheerfully.

'Stop stealing Barnes's attitude, it doesn't look good on you.'

'Everything looks good on me,' Steve fired back in true Bucky fashion.

‘Especially me,’ Bucky mouthed at Steve who just caught his eyes and thus promptly started coughing. By the time he recovered enough Sam had already started another tirade on how little of a burden they would be.

'-just promise you'll come to the game on Saturday and we'll call it a deal, I mean I've been telling you for _ages_ that you need to come by ...'

Steve raised an eyebrow at Bucky. Bucky shrugged. After the Dodgers' betrayal baseball wasn't the same, especially not in DC, but whatever. It didn’t much matter, as long as they had wi-fi, Bucky could still upload dog treat recipes and keep in touch with his baking community and Steve could still draw his comic and interact with his followers.

They’d have to limit superhero talk and loud sex, but Sam's guest bedroom was still better than a hotel.

~*~*~

Bucky felt really shitty for letting Steve do all the work for him, which Steve hushed by telling Bucky that if their roles were reversed - as in, if Bucky was the one to deal with the auditions while Steve stayed at home and cooked - they'd eat nothing but burnt pasta and takeouts. Which was a fair point, if not entirely a helpful one.

Steve was the kind of guy who never moved unless he wanted to, but when he wanted to, he _rammed_ through all the obstacles in his way. So now that he expected the full wrath of SHIELD coming down to them in the questionably foreseeable future for coming out, he went into Cap-search mode with even more vigor than previously and didn't let Bucky interview U. S. Agent. That was fine as both Bucky and Steve trusted Steve's judgment more than Bucky's. So while Sam was at work with the VA, Bucky made sure to have enough for everybody’s lunch, went out for a drag and a walk with the mutts, and edited and scheduled some posts for his cooking blog. He was almost done answering emails when Steve came home, exhausted from his talk with the newest possible recruit.

'That bad,' Bucky asked him when Steve buried his face in Bucky's neck. Steve straightened and shook his head.

'It was fine. He's willing to give Cap a go.'

'Wow. After only like, what...' Bucky looked at his watch. 'Six hours. Shit.'

'Yeah.'

'You're great at motivational speeches.'

Steve smiled tiredly. 'I hope Coulson wasn't around, because Hill said she was willing to don the stars and stripes by the end too.'

'I love you,' Bucky said with a flare of so fierce affection he felt his chest constrict.

'I love you too,' Steve rested his forehead at Bucky's temple. 'I will - I mean I know it's a horrible thing to say, but I'm actually thankful for Zola. If he hadn't injected you with the serum - I have no idea what I'd have done with myself without you in the future.'

Bucky was stunned speechless for a moment. Steve must've been really exhausted to the point of drunk-tired to admit something so uncharacteristically selfish.

'You'd've done great,' Bucky croaked. 'You love the 21st century.'

'I'd hate it without you,' Steve didn't raise his eyes to look at Bucky. 'I'd be a hermit with no friends and no hobbies and the guys at SHIELD would make fun of me. But I also wish you never had to go through torture and I'm sorry for saying I was glad for Azzano.'

'I am glad for Azzano too,' Bucky whispered, not for the first time in his life - he did go to mandatory SHIELD therapy, after all. Steve's eyes snapped to his. 'If the price for having you was being a POV for some time then I'd take that any day.'

'It wasn't, you hadn't-'

'It turned out okay in the end, after all, it's not like I was at Zola's hands for decades, and now I'm at your hands,' Bucky smiled.

'Please don't compare me to Zola in any way again,' Steve strained. 'Ever.'

Bucky grinned. 'Oh, but the resemblance is uncanny,' he teased, and Steve punched him in the arm.

'How did we even end up talking about this,' Steve said.

'I don't even know,' Bucky admitted. 'Change and food will be ready by the time you are too.'

Steve kissed him.

~*~*~

But of course their life wouldn't've been theirs without a mission coming up right in the middle of auditioning U.S. Agent. Steve was called in as Cap, maybe because he was pestering Hill too much about getting rid of U.S. Agent. Or maybe that was only Bucky's paranoia talking, but the results were the same: Bucky staying at Sam's in a bed with exactly one less Steve than ideal.

And naturally, Steve being Steve, no matter how much Bucky grumbled or protested, resulted in Sam waking him up the next morning to go for a run, then to take the marginally less energetic dogs to a pet store to pick up some toys.

And the mutts went for the extra squeaky ones, just for top annoyance points.

'We're going to be evicted if they keep the neighbors up at night,' Bucky said because the fact that Sam didn't know their apartment was soundproofed didn't mean that he approved the loud toys.

He let Sam buy them regardless.

After that, they went back to the park to get some hot dogs and let the dogs chill outside while they birdwatched. Sam had this weird obsession, and pigeons and sparrows appeared to like him all right, though that might have just been thanks to the bag of seeds from which he splattered generous amounts to the sidewalk after they sat down on a bench. Mary chased the pigeons and Isaac posed for some art students, and Bucky kept half an eye on them just in case.

'How're you doing?' Sam asked Bucky, and right, Sam lured him into a fake sense of security again by not bringing this up sooner. And Bucky wanted to say he was fine, which he was, but.

'I think they call in Steve too much and he doesn't know when to say no,' he said. Sam knew that they were agents at a PPD company of sorts, and he also accepted that confidentiality agreements meant he wouldn't be told more details. But he knew Steve and how incapable he was of not stretching himself too thin for the sake of others.

'That he doesn't,' Sam agreed, and he'd only seen the half of it. 'Is that why you have nightmares again?'

'Did we wake you up?'

'Nah, but I recognize the signs. You do realize I work as a counselor, right?'

Bucky grabbed a sunflower seed and flicked it at him. 'I have nightmares on an off, it's not new.'

'No, but Steve going away more is new,' Sam said after a pause, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

'I can actually function without Steve, you know,' he grumbled, picking at a thread of his shirt. He heard a bark, and indeed Mary decided that barking up a tree would get the squirrel down.

'I do,' Sam said, then aimed the next spattering of seeds at a pigeon that had a limp because of crooked claws on its right leg. 'I don't think being alone is your problem; I think you wanna be out on the field with him.'

Bucky glanced at him, but Sam was too focused on getting the limping bird some food that he didn't return the look. 'That's not gonna happen.'

"Fraternization rules", they claimed, and who knows, maybe SHIELD had some in place? That they just ignored for the sake of Caps? Stranger things had happened, after all.

'Have you talked to him?'

'He's my boyfriend, Wilson, I talk to him pretty often,' Bucky growled. Why did everybody think he wasn't communicating with Steve? He was. He also just knew Steve better than anybody, and Steve would've reigned fire on the city if Bucky said a bad word about how frustrated he was for seeing Steve with a team he wasn't a part of. 'We're actually trying to find a way to have more freetime.'

Sam looked at him, impressed. 'That's a good thing, man. Maybe that way you can catch up all the things your boy is fluent in,' he teased.

Thing was, Steve became a master of pop-cultural references. Part of it had been for their cover, part of it had just been Steve loving the 21st century, and part of it had been spite. Bucky, for all he had been the one wanting to go to the future, got stuck with knowing nothing about contemporary pop music or movies that didn't involve sci-fi elements. He was at least pretty up to date with scientific developments, and not just because of his arm or Tony.

'Har-har-har, very funny. Even you can't keep up with Steve's references anymore,' and Bucky flicked another seed at Sam, for which Sam dumped a whole handful of the stuff on his head.

~*~*~

It became clear very soon that U. S. Agent still despised Cap even when he was the one to wear the uniform. He outright told Bucky (yeah, at least he figured out Bucky wasn't Steve) that he'd wear a Mickey Mouse uniform if "his country needed him", but that was the extent of his respect for Cap. The butt of his feelings turned out to be him finding Cap way too moderate and considerate.

'I never heard anybody call me moderate before,' Bucky marveled one night, freshly out of the shower and in quiet search of his boxers - Sam had gotten to bed an hour earlier.

'You haven't been called that behind your back either,' Steve reassured him from the bed where he was doodling away until he caught sight of a very wet Bucky and then promptly forgot how to close his mouth. Bucky grinned.

'Like what you see?'

'Always,' Steve answered instantly, and no word was wasted on the new Cap that evening.

~*~*~

Sam insisted they go see a match. Which would’ve been fine if only in the last eighty years the world of baseball hadn’t changed so drastically to the point of unrecognizability.

Okay, that may have been an exaggeration.

It wasn’t the sport itself… well, the sport itself changed, too, but the biggest difference was with the teams. Or the lack of teams, see the fucking Dodgers.

So in NYC, they had the option between the Yankees and the Mets, which, ugh. A Brookliner would never sit on the Yankees side of an arena and don’t even get Bucky started about the Mets; the only reason they existed was because the Dodgers and the Giants abandoned home soil and moved to the West Coast in a spectacular display of betrayal.

If only Sam had supported a _normal_ team, like the Washington Nats; not that they too haven’t moved and then been replaced along the way, but c’mon. But no. Sam, of course, had only a mild interest in baseball, and all of that mildness went towards the Baltimore Birds.

Because of course it did.

Bucky resigned himself to be consorted by the general atmosphere a live match offers: the crowd, the hot dogs, the tactical analysis of the players and strategies that he and Steve religiously argued over. The lull of a strike, the time to buy another beer and enjoy winning a bet on how many times the pitcher goes through the lineup.

Bucky wished he had a team to root for still; that may have subdued this bittersweet taste in his mouth whenever the sport was mentioned. But they let Sam guide them through the city, wholly convinced that they would be watching the Birds play against the Nats.

Imagine their surprise when instead of stopping at a huge stadium, Sam guided them through the city efficiently and then across the Potomac.

‘Where we going?’ Steve asked.

‘Just trust me.’

Bucky’s insides turned into a knot as they passed Arlington Cemetery. He and Steve had came here before, to honor the Howlie members buried here, and each time even coming to the Pentagon reminded him of their old friends that passed the same way Bucky and Steve would’ve, in another life.

It always reminded him of how non-human just he was, especially when coming mentally unprepared.

But they did not linger around the cemetery too much, instead they went on and on, and then they stopped at a completely unassuming looking parking spot in the suburbs, next to a tennis court and a building screaming Barcroft Park at them.

‘...is this a pitch?’

‘Yeah,’ Sam grinned. ‘This belongs to the George Washington University! Come on in,’ and what other chance they had than to follow him?

The arena was small, much smaller than what Bucky expected based on Sam’s enthusiasm, but no wonder if it was for a college.

‘Was this your university?’ Bucky asked, and Sam raised his eyebrows at him.

‘Dude, no. I was at CCAF, remember?’

Ah, indeed. Sometimes Bucky forgot Sam was a _legit_ vet.

People were milling about, buying hot dogs and sandwiches, some wearing Tees with GW printed on the front, some wearing jerseys. Sam took them to the arena itself, first, and gestured around as if he was showing them the long-lost land of Atlantis.

‘What’ya think?’

Steve and Bucky looked at each other.

‘Looks nice,’ Steve politely said.

‘Is this a pitch for ants?’ Bucky asked.

‘Size doesn’t matter,’ Sam said confidently.

‘Yeah, that’s what all the small guys say,’ Bucky singsonged. Steve punched his arm, already blushing. ‘What?’

‘There are teenagers around,’ Steve hissed.

‘Do you think they don’t know about sex?’ Bucky mock-whispered back. Then the huge screen flashed and the words HUSKIES LINEUP appeared. Bucky turned back to Sam.

‘Are you serious?’

‘What? C’mon, you love huskies!’

‘Seriously?!’

Yes, Sam seriously brought them to a baseball game that had ‘huskies’ in the title. That’s it, that was the joke.

Bucky hated DC so, so much, and at the moment Virginia too.

‘Hey, I didn’t make you travel to the West Coast,’ Sam grinned.

‘You’re still buying the food,’ Bucky grumbled, and Sam’s face - knowing how much they could pack away - promptly fell.

So the arena was relatively full, although only 500 or so seats were there in the first place. Apparently, the Huskies came all the way here for a friendly fundraiser game, and the rivalry between the two kinds of Washingtonians drew the crowd in. Sam came back soon with doritos and canned colas, even if not by far enough for their metabolism.

Around them sat and talked not just college kids and their presumed parents, but all kinds of people, some not even old enough to walk on their own, some needing a cane to do so. The regulars knew the players’ names and rotations by heart; others just cheered whenever the hosts… well, did anything, really. A few in the back rows just read and scribbled, seemingly uninterested in anything happening down below.

Bucky was tempted not to enjoy the game just out of spite, but it turned out to be actually quite good. The kids knew what they were doing and they did it with all their heart, and even Pac Network broadcasted the match. The Huskies came from a more trained background, but the GWs stood their ground, and anyway, nothing was ever certain in baseball.

It was as if Bucky had been watching the Dodgers when they formed, on a smaller scale, but with the same energy. The crowd chatted and ate and made bets, just like in any other game; Sam and Bucky passive-aggressively insulted each other, and Steve joined the banter to show he had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to sass. For a little over two hours, Bucky forgot he was watching a game in a new century.

‘They’re called Huskies,’ Sam grinned at the end.

~*~*~

Steve and Bucky tried to make SHIELD see sense, something less stubborn and/or more sensible men wouldn't have even attempted. After each session with U. S. Agent they ended up in Hill's office, complaining and reasoning and bargaining, but apparently the organization had had enough of their pickiness. Hill put her feet down quite firmly, not that deterred Steve from trying over and over again. Bucky had a looming feeling of déja vu. The only thing that made U.S. Agent better than the Spirit of ‘76 was that he actually had beliefs he stood by, even if those were askew.

The most they achieved was the agreement over not putting the new recruit on social relations duty. The last thing they needed was Captain America proclaiming the time for patience was over but the chance to show the world what America was really capable of had come.

Not that he didn't get his feelings clear otherwise. Bucky never thought he'd see the day where someone dared Steve to fight instead of the other way around, let alone the one where Steve didn't follow up on the challenge. Yet that's exactly what happened when Steve tried explaining why capturing even the most dangerous of villains must be attempted even though killing them would be obviously easier. Bucky's scowl deepened and deepened from his perch behind smoked glass, because honestly. These were the best superheroes SHIELD could offer? No wonder America needed saving as often as it did.

U. S. Agent often implied - as in, said outright - that Steve and Bucky had no right to "retire" when their country needed them. No matter how many times they tried to explain that wasn't the case it never stuck, and after only two weeks Bucky felt like a co-star in a badly written soap opera where the same things keep happening over and over again and the plot goes nowhere.

'This is going nowhere,' he told Hill.

'We'll see how he does on the field,' Hill said.

~*~*~

The first mission was a moderate success: a few more noses bleeding and ribs fractured than was strictly necessary, but the team of robbers was stopped with no casualties. This seemed to wet the new Cap's appetite for more, and he wore the suit with abandon and total lack of restraints.

He was fighting The Watchdogs when three masked superheroes showed up out of the blue and joined the fight, but to Bucky and Steve's (who were waiting in the black-with-white-accents field agent ensemble in case shit hit the fan) absolute surprise they turned _against_ Cap.

Well. Not to anyone's surprise who actually had to talk to the guy for more than five minutes, but still.

Steve and Bucky arrived at the last possible minute to prevent Captain America killing some other superheroes after having beaten them to a pulp while every cable news station broadcasted the spectacle live.

What turned out to be even more spectacular was how he refused to give back the shield back at SHIELD HQ.

'You can't tell me what to do!' he snarled at Steve.

Steve was moments away from punching him in the face, which might've only been obvious to Bucky.

'That shield doesn't belong to you,' Steve said, sounding calm.

'You don't deserve it!' Agent's face was red with anger. 'You're too weak and too restricted by foolish ideals!'

'The people need someone who'll protect them,' Steve countered, jaw clenching.

'I'm protecting them!' Agent yelled. 'What's the point of putting the villains to jail when they'll only continue being evil when they get out? If we eliminate the threats now there will be less of them in the future!'

The few SHIELD agents around reeled back hearing this, but Steve straightened impossibly even more.

'Give back the shield,' he said, and Bucky shivered upon hearing the violence underlying the calmness of his voice. 'Last warning.'

U. S. Agent lunged without warning.

Bucky and Steve had vastly different fighting styles. Steve used the shield like it was art, and he had a natural knack for that glorified frisbee since day one. He had a learning curve, sure, but after some initial fuckups he mastered his skills of throwing and bouncing and striking and it became a wonder to watch. Bucky, on the other hand, usually used the shield how any sane person would: to _shield_ himself from punches and bullets, and then he relied on his weapons, such as his knives, guns, grenades and his left arm to defeat the enemy. He'd been called brutal and relentless when he went after the pray while Steve a brilliant hero, mostly because Bucky's hits resulted in more colorful bruises.

But Steve was no innocent when it came to throwing punches and standing his ground. Carter shared the secret with Bucky once, which was that she trained him herself before the serum - both having had to face bigger and stronger enemies required using momentum instead of force, leaping instead of blocking and going for the weak spots immediately. Steve's bare hand fighting style had been one of Bucky's secret turn-ons.

Steve's efficiency with the shield didn't mean inefficiency without it, even when his opponent had it, and so the fight between him and U. S. Agent couldn't have ended any other way but with Steve victorious and with his shield in hand while Agent's blood reddened the floor. Some regular agents came and took his unconscious body to medical, and Bucky let go of the knife handle he gripped in case he needed to step in.

Steve stepped on the edge of his shield and it flew up to his hand.

They left HQ without a word to Hill or Fury, and luckily U. S. Agent's name as a potential Cap was never mentioned again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:  
>  \- the game of spotting Hamilton references continue!  
>  \- the line about Steve being dickishly stubborn is from [Honest Trailers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZ3VQkK6Upo) :D they're not wrong.  
>  \- apologies from the people of DC on behalf of our dear Buckbeak  
>  \- do you know the part from Brooklyn Nine-Nine when they're interviewing for their new IT guy and Gina does Things? that's what was going through my mind while writing this.  
>  \- if anybody knows anything about baseball please hit me up.   Hope y'all enjoyed the meta wink-winks here and there :) please feel free to comment because it gives me life and the strength to continue writing!  
>  Also come and scream at me if you've been at AIFF this weekend to meet with SebStand because I Am Still Not Over That and Probably Never Will Be


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which there are lows, highs and lowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY PLEASE HEED THE TAGS AND THE CHAPTER END NOTES FOR MORE INFO
> 
> once again thanks to [@araydre](araydre.tumblr.com) for the beta and [@menatiera](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/) for the beta and cheerleading and brainstorming!!!!!!!!!! you're invaluable <3
> 
> So looks like i'll be moving to a weekend posting schedule :)

Hill and SHIELD seemed to have learned from U. S. Agent's fiasco, because they switched focus to personality rather than physicality. But they also were one of the most powerful organizations in the world, and they didn't allow a full win to the other without scoring some goals of their own and also making an example, which was probably why the next candidate couldn't even climb an 8 feet wall.

'Are you serious,' Steve asked.

'He has a wonderful personality,' Hill replied.

'He's gonna get killed if a supervillain attacks while he's posing for pictures,' Bucky said.

'I'll bring in the next candidate,' Hill said with an even voice and a face devoid of emotion, but it still came across as smug.

~*~*~

Captain America was a symbol for the nation. He was the first to tell people to stay calm in the face of chaos, to be brave in the face of danger, to be kind in the face of hatred. He gave encouraging speeches about the importance of freedom; he fought for justice with abandon; he was the first in line to defend the Earth.

But Bucky and Steve had their unique skill sets besides that of Cap’s, and sometimes those were needed more than Cap was. Steve with his brilliant tactician mind, for instance, saved a ship on his latest field agent mission from pirates, and now Bucky found himself on a mission in Siberia, for the first time in _months_ as the Winter Soldier - in all black gear, even the silver star covered on his left, black-clad shoulder, with a sniper rifle in hand, backing a STRIKE team led by Crossbones.

The plan was to stop some evil scientists (because seriously, that never got old) from developing a weapon that could destroy the Earth (also something that never got old: it was either destroy humanity or Earth or the whole universe, and Bucky seconded Tony's commentary about how evil lacked creativity). He watched through the scope as the team raided the base and took out the enemy's minions one by one with precisely aimed tranquilizer shots. He moved after the first round was fired, sought a new hiding spot, then started all over again.

If only it had been Black Widow at the front and not Crossbones; with her one could have, say, weapon compare and contrasts, or horsepower vs. price discourses, while getting the job meticulously done. But no, it had to be Bucky’s luck that he got Crossbones as the STRIKE team’s leader, who was as entartaining in chit-chat as a brick wall.

Bucky wasn’t even sure why it was _him_ , the Winter Soldier here, and not Hawkeye, the resident long-range sneak-attacker at SHIELD. He hoped to hell and back it wasn’t because SHIELD wanted to set a precedent by not giving them less of a workload even as the search for a new Cap continued. He was, of course, wiser than to mention his suspicion to Steve as long as it was nothing more than a speculation, just promised to himself to keep an eye even more open than usual.

The bad guys realized quickly that they had zero to no chance against SHIELD operatives, so alarm sirens rang and the evacuation began - well, as much as headless running around could be called evacuation. This proved to be a mistake on their part because as they emerged one by one on various transport equipment (Segways, were these guys _for real_?) Bucky sent them all to sleep. But then - then two guards came out, dragging with them people who were obviously hostages. More worryingly was that instead of using them as leverage, they just tried to cram onto a motorbike and run, which Bucky obviously prevented. The three handcuffed prisoners looked around, alarmed, as their captors fell to the ground.

'I see hostages, do you copy?' Bucky said into his comm. There had been no intel about hostages in the briefing and Bucky used all his training and experience to silence the screaming his mind about how something was very, very wrong here.

'Roger, negative,' Crossbones replied, slightly out of breath. Bucky gritted his teeth and moved again, just in time to spot a couple of other handcuffed hostages escorted by gunmen. Bucky took care of the gunmen effectively, his mind running a mile a minute.

'More are trying to leave,' Bucky said. 'Was this some kind of an experiment center?'

'Don't know,' Crossbones said after a pause. 'We're almost at the bull. Keep us updated.'

'Understood.'

Bucky watched as two STRIKE operatives rushed to the hostages and got them out of harm's way. A lull set in the attack that allowed Bucky to mentally revisit their intel: while evil scientists usually conducted illegal and non-con human experiments, SHIELD had nothing of the sorts in the mission’s file. Going into a situation where hostages are involved is vastly different from any other mission, and they definitely didn't go in prepared for prisoners - although any SHIELD agent is supposed to be prepared for literally everything, especially field agents.

He itched to go in. The team had the competence to get the job done, but he felt he could’ve helped more from the inside, especially when they said no other hostages were seen, which was - weird. Where the hell were they coming from? A base underneath?

The bad feeling in Bucky’s stomach intensified.

'Three hostages and two guards leaving the west side,' Bucky reported to the comm and promptly tranquilized the guards.

'Main threat neutralized,' Crossbones said. 'Winter Soldier, how far are you from the premise?'

Bucky sometimes hated his non-Cap alias, he truly did. For one thing, he hated the cold, and for another, _who came up with these names_? But what he hated the absolute most was that while Crossbones didn’t outrank Cap, he outranked the Winter Soldier fair and square.

'400 yards,' he replied.

'Stay there. Detonation's in 30 seconds.'

_What?_

'What?' Bucky immediately straightened up. Field agents were emerging from the building one after another, some bringing lab rats with them.

'Stay there,' Crossbones repeated, and Bucky felt completely helpless - he would have reached the building in half a minute with supersoldier enhancements, but then what? If there was no way to stop the detonation then there was nothing he could’ve done, he couldn’t have just thrown people over his shoulders and ran the opposite direction, there was no time, he wouldn’t have made it out of the explosion radius...

'Can you get the civilians out?' There was no answer. 'Crossbones, do you copy?'

Now friend and foe were running like crazy from the building, and Bucky hated everything, this stupid mission, the future, his lack of better, more useful powers, and he couldn't even shoot at the enemy anymore because being tranquilized that close to an explosion would be a death sentence and —

The building went up in an inelegant blast, debris flying everywhere, a cloud going up in a somewhat mushroom-y shape, heat breezing over Bucky, and he just stood there and watched, helpless.

~*~*~

'What the fuck happened?' Bucky demanded on the Bus after they put the surviving bad guys in handcuff and the poor lab rats under medical care.

'They set off a bomb,' Crossbones grunted, and he _did_ look wrung out: uniform torn, bleeding and sweating where his skin was showing. 'Must’ve been around a 500 pounds’ worth. We couldn't get our main suspect out either, he shot himself in the head, and we had to run for it.'

 _Fuck_. 'Our people?'

'Nothing major.'

Well, small mercies. Hate as Bucky might Crossbones for being a patronizing asshole, he was remarkable at bringing everybody home.

Bucky's shoulders relaxed a fraction.

'I'll see you at debrief,' Bucky said, and they both moved on to do their thing - contrary to popular belief, after-mission transport wasn't calm and relaxed even when nobody's life was in danger. Equipment needed to be cleaned and put away, mission reports made, good behavior praised by the superiors and bad reprimanded. Bucky assumed some of the roles for the latter, given his advantageous position that enabled him to see the movements and draw patterns from afar. But even if he hadn’t been at the back he would’ve gone through the other team leaders' mission reports back at HQ, misusing his authority as Cap and not giving a single fuck about it. You don’t survive a world war and superheroing business without learning to trust your gut, and Bucky’s gut, while being coiled tight from the epic failure of the mission, was still telling him that something was off.

Everything seemed to be in order from the handlers’ and even from Crossbones’s side, and he cautiously began relaxing when he stumbled upon something that had his stomach in a knot again, namely the route that led to the initial place of explosion.

A logical one, tactically sound, Bucky would've done the same - except it went right past a row of cells in which, according to the hostages' accounts, the prisoners were kept. He cross-checked the blueprints and the witness reports again to make sure his bias did not color his analysis, but no. It checked out.

Bucky saw red when he looked at Crossbones’s report again, red in the explosion that killed at least a dozen further hostages and some evil minions, red in the blood spilled on the white snow and grey ashes; red, when he threw the papers to Fury's desk that had bloody fingerprints on it.

'Winter Soldier, you don't have an appointment,' Fury said, but he also glanced at the file.

'Crossbones led his team past the cells holding the lab rats,' Bucky said.

Fury turned the pages until he looked at the blueprints of the building. 'That seems to me the sensible way in,' he said.

'Then why are 14 lab rats, who were reportedly held in those cells, killed in action,' Bucky was shaking so badly he needed to ball his right hand into a fist. The left never trembled. 'He had to see the civilians and yet instead of getting them out he decided to move forward.'

'His focus was with neutralizing the enemy in accordance with his orders.'

'Those orders didn't account for prisoners,' Bucky's voice pitched low. 'Keeping people from harm’s way is what SHIELD is about. But he shrugged it off as collateral damage.'

‘Couldn’t have the target taken our men out if they stopped on an unauthorized rescue?’ Fury asked after a few silent moments of scanning the reports.

‘Crossbones denied even seeing the prisoners during the mission and there’s no explicit mention of them in the handlers’ reports either,’ Bucky said, fighting to keep his voice even. ‘He didn’t provide sufficient parameter updates. And his team was big enough to spare _two agents_ that could’ve escorted the hostages out.’

Fury's brows furrowed as he studied the file. Then he looked back up at Bucky and asked, ‘Putting aside the fact that checking the files as the Winter Soldier is a huge breach of policy; as Captain America, however, the protocol allows you confront him. Why bring this directly to me?'

'You are the director of this organization,' Bucky replied. 'You can get away with breaking his nose; I can't, no matter which special agent I play.'

Then he turned and left without another word.

~*~*~

Falling into Steve's arms would've been Bucky's ideal way of dealing with life, but when he got home only an empty apartment greeted him - Steve must have gone out for a run or running errands with the dogs.

Bucky went through the motions of undressing without thinking. Dirty gear to the special washer, already cleaned weapons to the sealed storage, combat boots kicked around mindlessly. Then Bucky looked into the bathroom mirror and didn't recognize his own face - his skin was too pale, his eyes too empty with dark circles around it. He quickly turned on another light and stepped into the shower.

No matter how hot he turned the water he still felt the Siberian chill in his bones, in his left arm. Like he came home with something extra on his back, another being in his head: guilt. He looked at the water running and thought about how only a few degrees separated that from the icy cold vastness. The water scorched his skin and he felt the hot blast of the explosion on his skin.

The survivors - the survivors would need years of therapy. They must've been the most precious ones for the guards to try and take them to "safety" first - the others were discarded as less important, disposable.

Even by SHIELD.

Or at least, by Crossbones.

Not that it made any difference in the end to those blown up with the building.

In a way that could've and by all means should've been avoided.

The glass shattered and Bucky realized he put his arm through the shower wall, and it definitely wasn't laminated like windshields, and glass flew everywhere.

Damn it.

Bucky almost broke the button of the shower when he turned it off, then he scrambled out and burrowed himself in a towel, more out of reflex than of any conscious thought. He hardly felt the glass pushing and cutting into his feet; he became dull to the sensation much like to the heat of the water.

He knelt, and yeah, maybe he shouldn't have done that while the floor was littered with shards. But he started picking up the pieces bit by bit, except his hands were still wet and soon everything became red and slippery.

Wait. Red?

He looked at his palms and fingers, and sure enough, his right hand was scratched, skin torn, knuckles oozing blood.

Oh. He punched the shower wall with his _flesh_ hand.

His hand was literally red with blood.

Something about that thought made him chuckle which turned into a wheezing laugh because seriously, how poetic was that? How fitting? He sat back on his heels and laughed and laughed, without mirth or feeling, because it was _hilarious_ , it was just _perfect_ , until he heard someone calling his name. Repeatedly.

'Bucky? Bucky! Buck, c'mon!'

He looked up to engulfing blues, and Steve was shaking his shoulders desperately.

'Bucky, thank fuck, what the hell—'

'I have blood on my hands, Stevie, get it? Blood on my—' small huffs of laughter still escaped between words.

'Yes, we'll clean it up, just—'

'—because they died on me, they literally exploded on me, and so now my hands are red-'

'Bucky—' Steve's face was now horrified, and Bucky didn't understand why, and the next moment he couldn't breathe.

'Steve,' he said, and Steve hugged him and held him, not caring for the water and the blood and the glass, just held him tight while Bucky’s lungs refused the air that he was inhaling.

'C'mon, I'll clean you up.'

Steve directed Bucky to a chair in the kitchen and picked out the glass from his wounds, and then sanitized and bandaged everything - mostly to feel like he was doing something, Bucky supposed, and also to make Bucky feel cared for. Bucky didn't mind, nor did he mind when Steve ushered him to bed and had both dogs drape over him while he presumably cleaned the bathroom.

Bucky tried to feel remorse for the glass; to feel anything other than the crushing weight of lives lost. He buried his hand in Mary's fur and set his back against Isaac, and the next moment - or the next hour, for all he knew - Steve was there and Bucky latched onto him.

'I'm so sorry,' Steve kissed his still wet hair and stroked his arms and held him. Bucky just mumbled incoherently and let himself be lulled into some resemblance of calm by the three unsynchronised breathing patterns around him.

The next day was hell. The kind of hangover that sucked extra because there had been no fun night to predate it, only the crushing weight of reality from the moment Bucky opened his eyes. His head ached, his brain felt like cotton candy and something probably crawled into and died in his mouth while he slept.

Steve still had an arm thrown around Bucky's ribs and he swept Bucky closer. 'How are you?'

'Like shit,' Bucky answered honestly. Steve kissed him.

'What happened?'

Bucky closed his eyes. 'I... sorry 'bout the shower.'

'I don't give a fuck about the shower, Buck, what _happened_?'

Steve's anger was frightening even when not directed at Bucky. Mary whined from the foot of the bed, and Bucky would've shied away if Steve's hold had any allowance for movement.

'How much did you listen in on us?'

'I heard about the explosion and that the team was okay,' Steve said, his voice dull.

'There were about... exactly 14 casualties - lab rats, innocents.' Bucky swallowed. Steve's grip tightened and Bucky relaxed. 'Crossbones could've gotten them out but he focused on catching the leaders.'

Steve breathed with Bucky for a few moments.

'Was that a misconduct?' he asked.

'Yes.'

'Did you report to Fury?'

'Yes.'

'Then stop beating yourself over it.'

Bucky inhaled and exhaled and inhaled. 'Like you would?'

Steve tightened his grip. 'Have you met Captain America? Do as I say, not as I do.'

Bucky grunted, then sobered quickly. 'I should've been on the lead, not in the back.'

To his credit, Steve didn't say any of the usual jazz: that he hadn't known better, that he had been just following orders.

'You did everything you could,' he said instead. 'Sometimes that's not enough, but other times it's more than enough,' and Bucky felt hot tears run down his face as he burrowed in Steve's neck, soaking up his warmth and soaking his shirt, and Isaac licked his hand that was fisted in Steve's shirt, and he cried and hated how cruel the universe was until he didn't have the energy anymore.

~*~*~

They agreed that Steve was to take both the blue Cap and the red Cap missions for a while after that, but it seemed that SHIELD cut back from calling them for every little thing. Bucky knew that Steve gave a piece of his mind to Fury about the Siberian fuckup which may have had something to do with the letup. Maybe that was for the best: his weapons still shook in his right hand when he got around to the regular cleaning and organizing, and that was not the right state of mind for any mission.

Steve was called in for a social awareness event about domestic violence and he gave an inspiring speech, then drew a bunch of comics to mock those that mocked Cap. See, Steve was moving and passionate when it was about something he could actually get behind, but otherwise, he sounded bleak and fake - like when he talked about how following the rules was Important in that educational video series targeting high-schoolers. He also became responsible for discarding Cap-recruits based on lame auditorium-performance; something for which Bucky was awfully thankful for.

So they stayed at home, mostly, and after two of days of blankly staring at walls, Bucky at least started baking again. He hated these episodes of his where he lost trust in his own mind and ended up blindly following Steve’s - Steve was never supposed to be followed blindly, that could’ve only ended off the road. Except maybe in the bedroom. But Steve wore kids gloves around Bucky and refused to help Bucky's body feel the same pain his mind was suffering from.

Bucky almost brought out his knitting needles again, except they reminded him too much of when they first came out of the ice with a missing arm on Bucky's part and broken trust on Steve's as he realized Bucky hadn't told him about the serum, the result of which was that Steve jumped into a fight as part of Fury's Favorite Six when aliens attacked Manhattan not two weeks into their lives in the 21st century while Bucky was forced on a waiting list for his new arm and hope to hell Steve wasn't gonna die on the field without him. And then the new prosthetic still needed a lot of preparation: neurotic practice to control it, core muscle building to physically carry it... and of course fine motor control to use it. His therapist recommended knitting in the spirit of hitting two birds with one stone as WWII vets had picked up knitting to calm their minds from shell-shock, and Bucky decided to give it a go. It helped, for a while, but they soon reached the limit of hoodies and scarves and doggie-beds two supersoldiers and two dogs could ever have needed; there was, however, no limit to how much food two supersoldiers and two dogs needed. Anything that produced delicious meals in preferably large quantities was a win in Bucky's book once Steve stopped acting less like a jerk and Bucky's stomach functioned like a normal digestive organ again.

The sight of the needles still brought up bad memories even years later, and so Bucky instead went back to the kitchen, not that in his momentarily wretched state his stomach tolerated foods better than it had back then. But Steve and the dogs cared for taste as well, plus Bucky had his blog and his baking courses to think of too, even when he himself only felt the taste of ashes on his tongue, and not just because of how much he smoked.

If it were up to Steve they’d eat omelets for a week, so Bucky decided to surprise Steve for when he came back from his visit to the NYC SHIELD branch.

'Pancakes?' Steve came up to him and Bucky leaned into the hand on his upper arm.

'Those are for the dogs, won't taste that good,' Bucky gestured to the smaller pile.

'Anything you do tastes good,' Steve replied on reflex, and Bucky smiled. Sap. 'You're still feeling guilty, right?'

Bucky cocked an eyebrow at him before dusting his hands on his apron. 'I'm baking again, I'm fine, no need to call Tony or Sam.'

'But you're not listening to TayTay,' Steve said, and he took five fluffy, golden pancakes from the larger pile. They looked especially small in his hands.

'I listen to other things than Taylor Swift albums,' Bucky protested, and for once the nu metal coming from the speakers supported his point.

'Yes, acoustic and live versions of her songs, metal and jazz covers, and mashups,' Steve said after he swallowed the first two pancakes. 'And Hamilton. You do listen to a lot of Hamilton too.'

'Hamilton is great and you know it. Also, it's un-American not to like it.'

Steve rolled his eyes. 'All I'm saying is, I’ll know you’re okay when you’ll have something upbeat on again.’ Then he graciously decided to change the subject. ‘Want me to help film the dogs as they eat?'

'What, do you want to pretend they listen to you?' Bucky smiled and Steve hugged him, which, yeah. Bucky expected a stronger comeback, but Steve was indeed still worried about him, apparently. 'Yes, you can help me, just let me finish here,' he said while he stroked Steve's hair. 'What did Fury want?'

Steve tensed, then consciously relaxed, inch by inch. 'It doesn't matter.'

'Steve—'

'Look, I'd tell you if it was anything concerning us.'

'Everything about SHIELD concerns us, and you're bothered.'

'So are you,' Steve fired back, but just held onto Bucky tighter, making flipping the pancakes a bit more challenging. 'Fury had a stupid idea and I told him so. The end. You don't need to worry about it.'

'Yeah, that doesn't sound foreboding or patronizing at all,' Bucky grumbled, but to no avail, not that expected otherwise. When Steve was convinced he was doing the Right Thing there was no power on Earth or Beyond to steer him off course, maybe not even Bucky, especially when he himself didn't feel up to the task. The best he could do was get up to the game again and soon, and make sure whatever Steve and Fury got themselves into wouldn't blow up into something too big for them to handle.

~*~*~

Staying at home with the dogs and Steve definitely calmed Bucky's mind. Cooking was barely more than a necessity, but taking long walks together through the park, cocooning up in front of Discovery Channel and listening as Steve hummed while he painted fulfilled Bucky's hopes of getting back into the game.

Steve painted with a vigor because he was about to have his second exhibition soon, and while most of the paintings and graphics were done, last touch-ups and final pieces needed to be added.

The closest Steve's style could be identified as was avantgarde impressions, not to be mixed with impressionism: because of his many illnesses and conditions, as a child Steve couldn't hear anything with his left ear and he couldn't see certain colors properly, he had a hard time breathing which affected his sense of smell, and was also allergic as fuck to a bunch of various things, all of which meant that his senses worked differently than a healthy human's had. The serum changed all of it, of course, except the art in his heart, and even today he painted more of what he _felt_ , emotionally, than something specific and conceptual.

Bright and dull colors, blurred outlines, something you couldn't put your finger on but what twisted something in you - and that was what the papers said after his first exhibition, and what the reviews stated on his Etsy shop, so not like it was only Bucky's bias talking.

Just like when he was Cap, Steve as a painter touched something in people and made them better.

The night before the opening Steve came out of his studio wearing the old flannel that had more paint splatters than original colors and a smile that was absolute satisfaction and partially purple and blue, just like his fingers. He put an LP on, something soft and modern but jazzy, and pulled Bucky up from where he was reading in his armchair and grinned as he said, 'Dance with me?'

And how could've Bucky ever said no to this man?

So they swayed in each other's arms, mostly, and Bucky'd always loved these shared, quiet moments, even when their shitty radio had broken beyond repair and they had had to be mindful of the neighbors finding out, but right now? Right now he just loved them even more, because they could've gone anywhere, any bar, any dance event, they weren't restricted by fear and secrecy anymore, and yet they chose to stay home with only each other and the mutts as company. Bucky didn't even mind how Steve got paint on his favorite oversized hoodie, or that Steve would never fit into his arms the way he used to, and he didn't need Bucky to show him the moves because he was more coordinated than ever, although still had two left feet.

This was a new Bucky with a metal prosthetic arm and hair long enough for half an updo, and with a Steve who had an inch on him and then some in the shoulders, and they were going to get married, and they fit together differently but just as well as they always had.

'What are you laughing at,' Steve asked, and even his suspicion couldn't dim his smile.

'We're getting married,' Bucky answered, and indeed he was laughing, for the first time since his last mission. 'It's the 21st century and I still have you.'

'You'll always have me,' Steve promised, and for once Bucky wasn't afraid to believe him.

~*~*~

The exhibition featured about two dozens of Steve's paintings, both traditional and digital. Due to his fairly popular webcomic series, the turnout was bigger than the first exhibition's, and people constantly came up to him to congratulate, comment and/or criticize. Or to simply hit on him, even when Bucky had his arm thrown around Steve's waist. He could hardly fault them: Steve looked incredible in the navy blue button-up and dark gray slacks that emphasized all the memorable parts of his body, starting with the piercing blue of his eyes, then the width of his shoulders, his biceps, his specks, and ending with his unbelievable ass.

Top that off with modestly, unthreatening charisma and a dry sense of humor, and people would've eaten off his hand.

And yet Steve was mostly talking to Bucky, and would constantly touch him as if to reassure. Any other time Bucky would've scoffed at the coddling, but... he did feel _off_ since Siberia, and Steve's attention soothed his ruffles. He no longer longed for the wide circle of acquaintances he once had, nor did he socialize the way he used to; maybe he was just getting older, but he felt at home by Steve's side. Although he maybe should've tied his hair up fancier to look less like a messy punk if he'd aimed for the arm-candy role.

'Well, if it ain't the famous artist of the day,' said a voice, and they turned around.

'Sam!'

Bucky rolled his eyes. Sam promised he'd show up, there was absolutely no need to sound so surprised. DC wasn’t that far away after all.

'Don't sound so surprised, I said I'd show up,' Sam said, and Bucky hated him just a little. 'Nice show. Nice turnout, too!' he looked around appreciatively.

'Yeah, I never thought that so many would be interested,' Steve rubbed his neck, and Bucky punched his shoulder. 'Hey!'

'Don't be diminishing, it's bad for self-image,' Bucky said.

'Hate to admit it, but your SO's right,' Sam chimed in. 'People don't just like you for your pretty face.'

Said face turned deep red, and Bucky laughed and leaned in to kiss him. 'Although that's one of your greatest assets,' he teased, and squeezed Steve's ass for emphasis.

'Why are you ganging up on me,' Steve grumbled, but then he had to put on a quick smile when two women came up to address him.

'It _is_ amazing,' Sam said when the women left and they all looked at a painting hanging close by, dull green patterns with splashes of icy white and a sparkle of the brightest red.

'You think so?' Steve asked, and Bucky tucked himself close to Steve's side.

'Yeah. You know I used to think this was kinda bullshit, just random colors on canvas, like something a three-year-old could make? But man, they all tell a story and I don't get _how_.'

Well, that summed up Bucky's feelings, too.

Steve was speechless, so Sam took that as a sign to go on. 'Like this - it's so... violent. Not as much as that over there, though' and he pointed at a completely white background with thin black lines running and intertwining mostly vertically, with bright blue flashes in four places. 'You have some things bottled up, I hope you know that.'

'You have no idea,' Bucky said, low, and Sam blinked at him.

'Oh wait,' he said, 'you were there with him. Whatever inspired that painting.'

Bucky nodded silently.

'You shouldn't psychoanalyze us, Sam, other people are being paid to do that,' Steve said, effectively dissolving the tension.

'Fair enough,' Sam grinned. 'Speaking of paying, is your former sponsor coming?'

'He said he would,' Steve replied.

'He's letting Steve have all the spotlight first,' Bucky added, knowing full well that Tony had to balance multiple things carefully: he wanted to see the exhibition not only because he had indeed helped to get the first one underway, but also because he and Steve were friends, but he also may end up stealing the show. Which, to be fair, Steve wouldn't mind as long as those that came to see the art wouldn't be bothered.

So Steve stood in the spotlight because someone from BuzzFeed came to ask for an interview, and then the owner of the gallery spoke a few words, and then, of course, Steve had to thank everyone for coming as well.

It was well over 11pm when Tony walked in with Pepper, and in an uncharacteristically low-key way, too. Of course, him being Tony meant that he'd most likely be recognized sooner or later, but not immediately: he was wearing a comfy henley and faded jeans, and Pepper a turtleneck, simple jeans and heels basically nonexistent, although she still had about an inch on Tony. At first glance, they'd have passed as an everyday couple instead of the leaders of one of the biggest companies on the Earth, and only half of it was because of their casual hairstyles. The rest boiled down to how they carried themselves: relaxed and at real ease.

Since Steve was talking to some enthusiastic gentlemen they walked up to Bucky first.

'Hi there, Terminator!'

'Tony!'

'It's okay, Pepper,' Bucky smiled, kissed her cheek, and shook Tony's hand. He put on thin leather gloves, and this was something he definitely admired in the 21st century: nobody looked twice at him for his eccentricities. 'I get to call him and JARVIS as Skynet.'

She laughed with her head thrown back. 'I knew I liked you.'

'You like the humanoid version of the American Dream better than even me, though,' Tony nodded towards Steve, and Pepper glared at him.

'Take care with what you're implying, mister, or I will sign the next five interview requests they send my way. Even for Fox News.'

'But Pep, darling, dearest, you are the only one I have eyes for,' Tony clutched his chest spectacularly and tried smooching her, but she batted him away. Bucky chuckled at their antics.

'You should have eyes for the masterpieces, too' she said, and Tony didn't disappoint with his immediate comeback.

'You are the greatest masterpiece here!'

'I think our artist would agree,' Sam quipped, and Tony whirled around.

'A man of taste, finally! Tell me, birdbrain, did you like my birthday present?'

Sam rolled his eyes spectacularly - there was no keeping a secret mania secret from Tony. 'Yes, Tony; as I’ve told you four times already over the phone, I liked the finely tuned birdsound-analyzer you gave me three months before my actual birthday, thank you.'

'That's the spirit, it is nice to be appreciated around here. Now, Pep, wait, I wanna hear your thoughts so I can sound smart about art, too,' and he ran after Pepper who slid away to feast her eyes on the paintings.

Steve finished signing some prints from his website to a couple of young girls in business casuals, then he listened to Bucky and Sam's bickering (and even joined in on Bucky's side when it came to baseball - they started following the Huskies, and Sam started teasing them about being in a small league) until Tony and Pepper found their way back to them. If anybody recognized who they were, they didn't make a big deal out of it, which allowed a quiet (well, relatively - it was Tony Stark after all) moment of greetings and pleasantries.

'I especially like that one,' Tony gestured to grey smoke and two parallel lines intersected by evenly placed perpendicular ones. 'What's it about?'

Pepper rolled her eyes. 'Tony, art doesn't work that way, especially not Steve's.'

Sam grinned at Tony's expense, as always, but for once Pepper was wrong: Bucky had been with Steve on that almost fateful train in the Alps, and he had almost fallen to the depth of the mountain. That day changed a lot of things for them: Steve rather effectively confronted Bucky about him trying to push Steve at Peggy, and Bucky allowed intimacy back into their relationship again. Moreover, Bucky spoke to Peggy about Zola and superserums, and evasively even about Steve, too - his life didn't flash before his eyes, but what might happen to Steve if he died had, and he didn't particularly like that picture of Steve alone and even more reckless than before. And also nobody else knew the full extent of Zola's work, how close he got to recreating the serum, and the way Phillips treated Zola suggested he might get off easy. Such a dangerous man should never have been taken lightly.

Steve visibly strained, but maybe it was only visible to Bucky. 'I... we almost got into a train accident, once,' he said, and Sam's eyes bugged out of his head, Pepper gasped, and Bucky tried to act as if this wasn't the first time he heard the story. Tony just 'hmmm'-ed and raised his eyebrows. 'It was freezing and I thought that would be the last time I ever saw Bucky.'

Bucky laced their fingers together and squeezed, and Pepper made the classic face of 'too cute to be real' of someone seeing either toddles, kittens or attractive gay men.

'Man, your lives are a soap opera,' Sam said, and the tension dissolved - Sam had his merits, Bucky had to accept that.

'Next thing you'll be telling us you've jumped over fire for each other,' Tony eyeballed them suggestively.

'Well...' Bucky grinned.

'Now that you mention it,' Steve added and his cheeks were red.

'Oh, don't mind him,' Pepper swatted Tony's arm, 'he has a picture of himself in his workshop on the wall!'

'Yes, but it's Warhol style! That's art!'

'You know what's art? The new DB10. When you have that hung on the wall then we can talk,' Sam stated.

'Aston Martin is _way_ overrated,' Tony said indignantly.

'Don't give him ideas!' Pepper warned Sam at the same time, probably after seeing a dangerous glint in Tony's eyes.

'Hanging a car to the wall would be completely useless anyway, all the aesthetic would be lost - unless you hung it from the back upside down, in which case - of course, you'd need reinforces ceilings, nothing we couldn't do-'

The end of Tony's rant was lost in Bucky's laugh, and Pepper exasperatedly took Steve's arm to hear his opinion about the paintings. Sam followed them, but Bucky's eye remained on Tony, who - just as the other three had their backs to them - transformed his face into seriousness in a millisecond.

'I looked into what we talked about the other day,' he said casually and turned to mimic being invested in Steve's art but only to slip his hand into his pocket and pull out something small and metallic and gold.

'Is that...' Bucky's throat tightened.

'It took me _ages_ to figure out how to turn your arm’s alloy into this golden color,' Tony said, not looking at Bucky. 'These can replace the plate in your left ring finger where the ring would go. It can be done in like 10 minutes, just give me the call.'

'Tony, that is - wow, just...' but Tony had already vanished the plate-replacements and waved away the gratitude.

'It was a good challenge, not something boring like other people make me do,' he shrugged, then pulled out a thin black velvet box from the very same pocket. 'I also made this for him, the exact same alloy as yours, just promise me to take a pic if he cries.'

Bucky clutched the box to his chest, and also with it Tony's hand. 'Tony, I can't thank you enough,' and this was real, this was _real_ , they were getting _married_. Suddenly the painting in front of him blurred.

'It's okay, you deserve all the happiness in the world,' Tony said quietly and clasped his shoulder, and finally, Bucky let go of his hand but not the box, never the box in his life. He itched to look inside but that would be insane here, he'd have time for that later, no need to tempt fate - who knows how many took secret photos of him grasping Tony, too, and were already making headlines about 'Tony Stark seducing local artist's boyfriend'.

Steve soon noticed that Bucky was kind of hazy, not that he himself didn't have lines of emotional exhaustion and nerves on his face, and so they said their goodbyes to their friends. Tony stepped in and made some loud and appreciative comments about the exhibition, and while everybody was making notes and taking pictures Steve and Bucky sneaked out at the back.

That night's celebratory lovemaking was extra sweet for Bucky thanks to the small golden ring hidden amongst the bags of flour in the back of the kitchen cupboard.

~*~*~

'You know who would be a great Cap?' Bucky asked out of the blue while Hill was showing the file of yet another candidate that could pass as a possible Captain America in SHIELD’s books but was refused by Steve and Bucky almost instantly. Hill just gave him a look, which Bucky took as permission to go on. 'Agent 13.'

Steve perked up. 'The handler in the mission with the bald guy-'

'- and the molecular gun that turned everything pink and glittery, yeah.'

'And the "downstairs neighbor" from those first few months of surveillance?'

'That's the one.'

'Hmm,' Steve stood at parade's rest and contemplated. 'You know what, you're right. She's got the skills, the training, the heart.'

'The blond hair and the love for oversized weaponry - she could be our lovechild.'

Steve made a face which Bucky would've translated as 'ew'. 'That's a disturbing image.'

'But an accurate one! I think she'd be a great Cap.'

'Absolutely not,' Hill interjected. 'Captain America is not a woman.'

'Why on Earth not,' Steve puffed out his chest, and really, Hill should've known better. 'Captain Marvel is a woman _and_ a captain.'

'So is Captain Garrett,' Bucky added, because he couldn't come up with any other superheroine who went by "Captain", but then just to make it fair for Star Wars, not just Star Trek, he went on. 'And Captain Phasma.'

'Captain Mary Read, Captain Anne Bonny,' Steve added because who didn't love female pirate captains?

'And gender is a spectrum anyway, it's very disrespectful to make people limit themselves based on genitalia,' Bucky concluded.

Hill rubber the bridge of her nose, and she visibly regretted saying anything in the first place.

'Captain America isn't going to be a woman,' she said with absolute finality with a side of exasperation.

'That is sexist,' Steve said and squared his jaw.

'Director Fury requested the candidates to be superficially exchangeable with the two of you,' she recited. 'If you have an issue you can take it up with him.'

~*~*~

In the end, they didn't take it up with Fury - not yet, anyway. Hill may have sensed that Steve and Fury exploding in each other's faces wouldn't be a good idea because she fished out a new guy, a young field agent that looked promising enough, and so back to Sam’s and DC it was _again._

The new recruit had no superhero alias and went by the name Roscoe Simons. Less tall and strong than the previous ones, but he exercised regularly and did well in the auditorium. He even managed to fight off a couple of non-superpowered SHIELD operatives in closed-space combat using only his bare hands and the weapons he took from his opponents. Enhanced or not, it was a feat in itself as SHIELD had the best of the bests when it came to field operatives. It would’ve been even better if the kid hadn’t ended up stumbling over the unconscious agents’ bodies afterwards, but hey, nobody was perfect.

For the first time since the quest for the third Cap started, Steve and Bucky felt hopeful about a candidate, and not just because he happened to be audibly from Brooklyn - which he was. But he _liked_ Cap who was one of his childhood heroes, even signed up to SHIELD as a field agent because of him, but he was not obsessed to the point of blinded craze. Instead, he saw Cap as a symbolic figure of morale just as much as a physical protector of the people, and yeah, the open-hearted honesty of Simons managed to persuade even the coldest-hearted SHIELD operatives.

His lack of any kind of superserum or scientific enhancement still worried Bucky and Steve somewhat. Even using the shield required a fuckton of strength as it was quite hard to maneuver, and outright impossible to throw effectively and safely if you didn't have enhanced power. Back in the day it took Steve months to master the art of using it as a frisbee, and Bucky still was more comfortable just keeping it at his side, though that was not because of his lack of skill but because he was a sensible human-ish being and preferred original intended purpose of usage instead of showing off at any given moment.

What could spoil the kid’s performance effectively was the his overenthusiasm which stood in proportion to Steve's righteousness. He was inches away from walking headfirst into things when he got too excited, which was a bit unnerving and a lot unhelpful when happening at the wrong time. Therefore the compromise they made was that Simons would be PR Cap, and Steve and Bucky would be fighter Caps. A win with one fell swoop, because Simons wouldn't have to dial his enthusiasm back and his lack of superpowers wouldn't be an issue, either.

The basics he still had to learn. A PR event was famous for, well, being famous: people were aware that Cap would be there and stay there, and it provided an easy platform for attackers as Cap had to focus on civilian safety as well. Simons thus was given excessive training, mostly of the defensive kind: dodging, not throwing the shield, climbing, hiding behind the shield, firearms, not throwing the shield, evasive maneuvers and most importantly, not throwing the shield. Civilian safety and crowd management also took high priority, but luckily the kid was a natural and picked up on Steve's techniques like a dream.

Moreover, he showed admirable support of Bucky and Steve as an item and appeared to be glad to help them out, and the shortest way to Steve's heart had always been through tolerance, and in the face of all the discriminating bullshit people threw around in the name of God and Cap it climbed the list fast for Bucky too.

'...I feel like I should bring him cookies or something,' Bucky admitted to Steve later when they walked the dogs - the only relatively safe place to talk shop without the fear of Sam overhearing - after Simons offered to answer hater comments on the official Cap fansite.

'You usually do make enough for an army,' Steve agreed. 'He reminds me of Spiderman.'

'Aha!' Bucky exclaimed, and Mary howled in surprise. 'I knew he seemed familiar. Do you think he's Spiderman?'

'I think SHIELD would've mentioned that fact, and besides, they wouldn't exchange Spiderman for a third Captain America.'

'Well, technically-' Bucky began, but Steve interrupted.

'I know, I know,' he rolled his eyes. 'He's still not Spiderman.'

And then he sighed, and Bucky sighed too because he knew the tone of that sigh. That sigh signaled that Steve had A Revelation, at best unconventional, at worst unlawful, but by God or whoever was listening, he was going to act on it. And Bucky was going to have to keep him alive and put out the fire afterwards. As usual.

Bucky hated Steve sometimes.

'It's a shame we can't take him to brunch, he and Sam would get along like a house on fire,' Steve said. Sadly, hopelessly, but with a furrowed brow.

Bucky sighed. He wanted to say that they couldn't even take him to brunch without Sam, because he _didn't know who they were_ in the first place, but Steve'd just take that as a challenge and _tell him_.

'Steve, no', he said instead. 'We can't adopt the kid. We got two dogs already.'

'No, I know, I just,' Steve contemplated, then settled on the Saddest Puppy Eyes the World Has Ever Seen. 'I just sometimes wish that some of our colleagues would be normal colleagues, you know? We could go for a beer after work and maybe even become friends.'

And suddenly Bucky, too, envisioned a world in which they had more acquaintances - not a hard thing to do, given that Steve had Sam, Bucky had Tony, and they each had their respective groups of comic and art enthusiasts and cook hobbyist, but that could hardly be called a proper circle of friends. More like a semi-circle, or a curvy line.

On the other hand, some non-superheroes struggled with the same, or at least Tony certainly did. Despite (or maybe because of) the fact that he was a rich and famous genius, he had incredibly few people who truly cared about him. Three, if you weren't counting Bucky and Steve.

Sam had an extended family of uncles and nieces and cousins, but he never fully recovered from losing Riley, it seemed to Bucky - and to be fair, he could relate to that.

Maybe people were just like that: solitary, but loyal to those they let close.

Still, the chance of letting new people in had a certain appeal that no wonder tempted Steve.

'Yeah,' Bucky finally said. 'I get it.'

And he did, and the possibilities sprung to life in his mind as they spoke: he would’ve been able to exchange more personal stories with Black Widow than their opinions about the latest Walther vs. Colt debate. He could find out whether or not Hawkeye and Black Widow were really a thing, or was that just office rumor - or maybe not, he valued his testicles, after all. And who even knows, maybe Iron Man would turn out to be a sensible man with a golden heart instead of a selfish, entitled asshole.

'So,' Bucky joked, and for someone who'd been ready to tell Steve off a few minutes ago it was only a half-hearted attempt at humor, 'after telling the world that Cap is gayer than Christmas you plan to unmask New York's heroes?'

Steve's face shifted into true horror. 'No! People have the right to privacy, even superheroes - maybe especially superheroes. But they should also have the right to show who they are if they wish, without the fear of reprisal.'

Bucky rolled his eyes. 'I know what you meant, calm your tits. But what _I_ meant was would you unmask in front of Simons?'

'Would you mind if we did?' Steve asked after he correctly interpreted Bucky's "you" as a "we".

'Right now, yes. But if you give it some time...' he trailed off. 'I could see myself inviting him over for lunch.'

'Repercussions be damned?' Steve teased.

'Isn't that the motto of our life?' Bucky asked back, and Steve kissed the smug smile off of his face.

~*~*~

Sam used his sixth therapist-sense to intuit just how low Bucky had been a couple of weeks ago, and decided to drag him out of his shell. Instead of asking Bucky to bake for them, which Bucky did halfheartedly anyway, he guilt-tripped them into taking the dogs to the VA to volunteer.

They'd been there a couple of times, to have a look around when Steve and Sam became jogging buddies and to some events as well, and Sam constantly kept mentioning possible murals to Steve conjoined with the lack of funding - of course, Steve would've re-painted the whole building free of charge, but Sam had none of that. Still, this time the center lacked the usual subdued, heavy atmosphere that came with war and PTSD, and was full of screaming kids, drooling dogs and grandmas in slippers.

'What,' Bucky said, then he was too busy trying to hold Mary back - Isaac behaved marginally better in Steve's hands, but he too strained to get closer to all the new smells.

'C'mon,' Sam led them to a table full of white-haired and deeply wrinkled seniors who were making lemonades.

'Aw, what lovely dogs you have,' a woman said, and immediately started scratching behind Mary’s ear.

'Guys, these are Steve and Bucky, they need just as much attention as the dogs,' Sam, the traitor, said.

'And what are they called?' another woman said. She had a scar running through her right eyebrow; likely from a burn.

'This is Isaac, and that is Mary,' Steve said. 'Nice to meet you all.'

'Oh, forget that formality, we are all friends here,' the first woman said. 'I'm Gertie, this is Olive,' and then she introduced the rest as well, and Bucky's mind did some impressive acrobatics to store the names with their corresponding wearers. Matthew, John, James, another James... yeah, this was his generation all right.

They got them to sugar measuring and lemon cutting duty within the blink of an eye and the dogs were assembled with cute little scarves and signs hung from their necks, advertising the lemonade and hugs.

'Isaac is not very good with too many strangers,' Bucky warned, unnecessarily: Isaac seemed to be doing just as well as Mary, and only after an hour did he lay down to breathe heavily by Bucky's feet.

The event itself, the olds explained, was an awareness-raising campaign for the socially vulnerable: orphans, vets, homeless, the elderly. Sure enough, seemingly half of DC showed up to get their kids pet dogs and rabbits and the occasional ball python, and students came and brought huge bags of second-hand clothes to be distributed later. Patchwork families delivered boxes of non-perishable foods, and there was a group of tattooed friends who came with dry dog food for the mutts in service.

About every half an hour or so someone thanked Bucky for his service. His Stark-prosthetic was visible as he rolled up his sleeves and forewent gloves, and Isaac by his feet added to the impression. Bucky thanked each of them without knowing how to properly react until Gertie stepped to his side.

'You should be proud,' she said.

Bucky blinked at her uncomprehendingly. 'For what?'

'Going to war for your country,' she said. 'Not many can say they got beliefs strong enough to even write a letter about.'

Bucky instinctively glanced at Steve who was smiling with some preteens at the other end of the table; but he couldn't have said he was drafted without betraying his age. And besides, even though he had been drafted, yes, but. If he didn't have Steve to worry about and love and protect and follow, he would've signed up the moment the US declared war on the Axis.

'I got out, though,' Bucky argued, more with himself than with Gertie.

'Without an arm,' she poked her bony finger into said arm with a by then familiar cling. 'Which, Sam tells me, you're still using to do good with.'

Now that was just unfair. How dare Sam say anything nice about him behind his back; that's not how their relationship was supposed to work. 'Don't trust anything Sam says; it's just some bodyguarding. I'm not sure I'd enlist again.'

Well, certainly not for Afghanistan or Iraq, not with his experience. If he had been just a twentysomething though, when those wars took place... who knows?

'That just means you're not blindsided, that you learned,' Gertie said wistfully. 'That's still a lot more than most folks can tell about themselves, just look at the world.'

'And if you ask the vets around here most of them'll tell you they wouldn't sign up again,' Matthew added, apparently having better hearing than his age led one to believe. 'I know I wouldn't, and I only lost three toes in the Ardennes!' and he wriggled all seven of his remaining toes in his sandals.

Showing off his appendages drew Olive around. 'Oh, the emotional stuff is much worse,' she graciously waved. 'My husband couldn't even sleep in the same bed with me!  And imagine telling your kids why their father broke down in tears when they thumped something too hard on the floor.'

'Yes, now at least we have programs for that,' Gertie gestured towards the leaflets advertising therapy sessions and counseling.

'And maybe those will help the young ones see that war's not only glory and heroism but just suffering, no matter which side you're on,' Matthew said.

Bucky methodically petted Isaac's head in his lap. 'But would you rather have let the Germans won?'

'Oh God no, by no means,' Matthew looked affronted. 'I'm saying that there wouldn't have been a war if all the Germans didn't pick up their guns in the first place.'

'They would've gotten a shot in the head,' Bucky argued.

'Not if there had been nobody to pull the trigger,' Matthew reasoned. 'If everybody had stood up to the only one who wanted to kill there wouldn't have been a massacre.'

'Oh shut your trap, Matthew, we've been through this,' Olive shook her head. 'More than one wanted to kill. There's always more than one wanting to kill.'

'But so long as folks don't stand around idly—' Matthew began, and Bucky had an epiphany.

'Oh my God, you are like Steve,' he said, then blushed when the olds stopped in their tracks to stare at him. 'Sorry, I mean—'

'Oh, honey,' Gertie said, and patted him on the shoulder, 'your war is not by far over then.'

~*~*~

'Sorry I'm late, my dog literally ate my SHIELD-issue boots and I had to run and get new ones and they gave me hell too,' Simons was, in fact, just tying his laces when they found him in the locker room. After Bucky and Steve had been waiting for him for twenty uneventful minutes in the auditorium they decided to just change back and go home, but alas, mystery solved. And Simons looked already chastised, even before Steve turned the 'Cap is disappointed in you' face on him.

'You got a dog?' Bucky perked up, only faking about one-fourth of his enthusiasm to prevent Steve lecturing the new recruit.

'Just a puppy, she's only six months old,' Simons stood up but couldn't help his grin. 'Training's in progress.'

'Oh yeah, they can be destructive at that age,' Bucky said and eyed Steve - some puppies never become less destructive, especially when they were called Steven Grant Rogers.

'You got dogs?' Now it was Simons's turn to perk up.

'Two,' Steve joined in because just like Bucky, he was unable to pass an opportunity of talking about the dogs. 'High maintenance ones, too, but wouldn't change them for the world.'

'I know, man,' and this was the least formal Simons had ever been with them, 'what breed?'

Steve glanced at Bucky, and even underneath the mask they could read each other: Steve wanted Bucky to decide about disclosing this part of their lives. Because a specific couple of random queer guys were hard to find in the jungle that was NYC, but a couple of fit queer guys in Brooklyn with two huskies gave just the right amount of info for those that knew what to look for.

Bucky's hesitation gave enough time for Simons to realize this as well because he backtracked instantly. 'No, sorry, I didn't mean to-'

'Huskies,' Bucky interrupted him. After Steve put the thought of coming out (ha!) to colleagues, Simons seemed a good place to start. 'Would've gone with mongrels, but Coulson's puppies arrived almost even before we were fully defrosted.'

'I think he wanted a pedigree breed for the "heroes of the nation", even if nobody would know they were ours,' Steve added with a frown, then he schooled his features. 'Not that I'm complaining, they are amazing dogs.'

'They are,' Bucky said, 'but they are also - well, yeah. High maintenance.'

'That sounds like a joke Iron Man would make,' Simons said, and seeing their uncomprehending faces, he elaborated. 'Giving you dogs that are famous for loving the cold when you two are just out of the ice after 70 years? That isn't Coulson's type of humor.'

'Well,' Bucky said after a stunned moment of silence, 'now that you mention it, yeah.'

'I would've given you golden retrievers,' Simons said, then his brain caught up to his mouth and he blushed _fiercely_ underneath his mask.

'I can see why you'd say that,' Bucky grinned at him conspiratorially, with a lewd glance at Steve, whose ears also turned red. A great feature of his headgear, really, was that it showed the blushing. Bucky couldn't have designed it better himself.

'Mine's a mix, got it from the shelter,' Simons said mostly to avoid the retriever-topic, and Bucky realized that they'd been standing in the locker room for minutes just talking about their dog preferences.

Huh.

This was what having friends at work must have felt like.

~*~*~

When Bucky came back from sending his latest food collection package on the mail - this time to a lovely subscriber of his to Iceland, and from whom he had already received one similar box, back before he had to postpone receiving stuff from the baking community as he had no postal address in DC - Steve and Mary were having a staredown in the kitchen. Isaac perked up at Bucky and thumped his tail once onto the floor.

'Hi, what are you doing?'

'Nothing,' Steve sighed, but he kept holding out his hand in front of Mary, as if...

'...are you trying to make her sit?'

Wow. That dog-talk with Roscoe had a positive effect on Steve Rogers. Would wonders never cease. Maybe coming out and making superhero friends would be worth it for Bucky not having to do all the “make Steve see sense” by himself.

Steve sighed again. 'Why do they obey you but not me?'

Was that a trick question. 'Maybe because I _train_ them?'

'But I'm trying as well!'

From anybody else, it would've been an outright whine. Mary responded in kind, without sitting down, of course, and Isaac yapped.

'Steve, I had nothing to do for _months_ other than to chain-smoke as I watched you run into fights; all I ever did was to knit and play with the dogs, of course they listen to me more than you. But they're really not an easy to train breed, you know that.' Plus Bucky had enough practice from trying to keep a stubborn and strong-willed, loud Steve alive all his life, and if that didn't prepare him for having Huskies then nothing would've. No use telling Steve that, however.

Isaac graciously stood up and walked to Bucky to beg for some pats. 'Try it with Isaac, he's a bit better behaved.'

True to form, Isaac only needed to be told three times before he sat down to receive the homemade treat from Steve, and Bucky only needed to signal at him once from behind Steve.

'Where is Sam anyway?'

'Oh, out.'

That tone, Bucky knew that tone. 'Out where?' he asked and went to unpack his post.

'Um, just out.'

'Rogers,' Bucky said, and Steve avoided his eyes, 'is Sam out on a date?'

'No?'

Bucky rolled his eyes. 'Why do you try lying in the first place, you're shit at it. But most importantly, why do you try lying to me?'

'I'm not lying and also I'm not shit at lying,' Steve said indignantly, and Mary jumped up to take the remaining treats from his hand.

'Yes, you are, to both. Give it up, it doesn't suit you.'

'I can lie.'

'Tell me one time you have lied. Ever.'

Steve wrinkled his forehead for a moment. 'We lie constantly about our job.'

'Nope, doesn't count. We say we do protection detail whereas, in fact, we do protect people. It's an exaggeration.'

'It's a lie.'

'Still doesn't count. Tell me something else, something that wasn’t an omission or an exaggeration or some twisted form of reality but an outright, straight out _lie_.'

Steve remained silent with his lips pursed together.

'Yeah, that's what I thought.'

Steve was ready to burn the world down for being unjust but he'd do it openly, and Bucky kinda loved him for it.

'Don't tease Sam about it, it was confidential,' Steve said quietly.

As much as Bucky would've loved to jump on the teasing train, he knew how few friends Steve had, and how precious those were. 'I'll get the info out of him myself and then tease?' he offered.

'Thank you,' Steve smiled at him, and Bucky rolled his eyes but kissed him anyway.

~*~*~

Simons took Cap's shield and suit for PR events, some interviews, meetups; visiting terminally ill wards, promoting adoption and sustainable environment; speaking up against domestic violence and for preventative healthcare.  He even took homework with him for his days off, and he replied (the heavily SHIELD monitored) fanmail both online and in physical format.

It allowed Bucky and Steve a huge amount of breather. They attended Sam's speech at the VA's straightforwardly named _Back from the war, now what?_ event together and without strictly agreeing on an excuse that they'd use if their pagers beeped. Then they _finally_ moved back to Brooklyn where Bucky could film baking vids regularly again and Steve could go back to his beloved canvases. They tested some features Tony developed for the arm in the lab, even though strictly speaking only Bucky was necessary for the trials. And Steve finished a 12 pages long comic two days ahead of schedule, instead of his usual “pulling last minute all-nighters” method.

Moreover, they met up with Simons - Roscoe, really - regularly, and they snuck into empty stairwells and unused corridors (the only places they wouldn't stick out from while masked) to share a beer or some of Bucky's cupcakes and stories about their dogs. Daisy, who Roscoe consequently called Sweetie Pie, learned the basic commands but for some reason remained scared of kids with ponytails and still destroyed shoes when an occasion presented itself.

The new Cap’s reception appeared to be positive and supportive as well, or to phrase it differently, there was no sudden change of public opinion on Cap when Roscoe wore the mask. Steve tracked forums and blogs and news sites and polls almost obsessively to make sure everything was in order. Unlike SHIELD, which cared only about big numbers and averages and masses, Steve cared about the individual, the lonely and the odd one out. Even if only one person was hurt by something, that mattered more to Steve than hundreds being hurt to SHIELD.

He only showed the creme de la creme to Bucky in terms of Cap reactions: the funniest, the realest, the most heartfelt ones, but he himself got lost on Twitter and Tumblr and YouTube for hours while Bucky was usually editing posts or browsing Netflix Docus. And Roscoe really delivered his latest PR speech in a way that had younger viewers suddenly making #relatable posts and wallpapers with his quotes. Some uploaded photos of his answers to fanmail with heart emojis and claimed their lives were made. Others believed that this enthusiasm was what the world needed, some energy amidst all the apathy and lethargy. And the opposition was no louder, nor different than when Steve or Bucky did Cap things.

Life was good.

And then it wasn't.

~*~*~

The human brain was an organ not to be trusted. It rationalized the senseless, found patterns in random, got lulled into a false feeling of security by routine.

Even seasoned veterans like Bucky and Steve were fooled by their minds.

It started as one of their new average Sunday evenings: Bucky's cooking filled the apartment with mouthwatering scents, Steve couldn't wipe paint off of his fingers, then they settled in front of the TV with the dogs at their feet to watch some lighthearted flick as background for necking.

Roscoe went out to a photoshoot for a charity cause. They had their pagers at their side, as always, but expected no calls - it became routine, at this point, that Roscoe was smiling for the camera instead of them. They didn't even follow the coverage. If they had, they'd known what happened about 45 minutes before SHIELD called to tell them that Roscoe'd been attacked.

The rush to SHIELD medical passed in a blur of gut-wrenching worry and self-blaming, the kind they were both familiar with. Then Coulson greeted them, which was a curse and a blessing in one as his impassive face showed no compassion, but no judgment either, and updated them.

'He's comatose,' he said with an almost-kind voice.

'When will he wake up?' Steve asked, shoulders sagging.

'It could be an hour, or it could be never. We don’t know.'

They could see him from behind a glass window - he looked unnaturally young amongst the white pillows and beeping machines. But at least he seemed to be at peace. The doctors unmasked him and wrapped a white bandage around his head, underneath from which black strands curled.

Bucky's flesh hand felt just as cold and numb as the metal one when Steve took it and lightly squeezed before letting go.

'He'll be put into a private room, but you can still visit,' Coulson told them some time later, not mentioning privacy protocols - a small mercy.

Bucky wanted to say things, _ask_ things, but his body wasn't cooperating.

'Does he have a family?' Steve asked. 'Someone to...'

'Yes. They'll be flying in on Tuesday morning.'

'The attacker?'

'In custody and will be dealt with.'

'Daisy...' Bucky finally found his voice, but couldn't finish.

'His dog,' Steve took it up for him. 'Shouldn't be left alone for two days.'

Bucky felt Coulson's gaze on them, but most likely it was as undecipherable as always. 'We'll dispatch someone to take care of it.'

'We can do it,' Bucky muttered.

'Get someone to drop the dog at ours,' Steve explained. 'We'll give her back i— when he wakes up.'

Bucky felt like a glass from which all liquid had been poured, or a page deleted of any writing. He methodically petted the dogs when they ran up to them in the flat, took off his jacket without thinking, and wished he didn't have to look anywhere - or rather that he had nowhere to look. The TV's remote still laid between the cushions where Steve had dropped it after getting the call. The last patch of carrot cake muffins still in the oven, most likely only half-cooked as Bucky turned it off midway through. Their clothes thrown everywhere from when they rushed to dress for SHIELD.

Remnants of a life before Bad News.

'He's going to be fine,' Steve said, and Bucky realized he'd been standing frozen in the foyer.

'You don't know that,' he said. 'The docs say-'

'I know Roscoe; he _will_ wake up.'

Other times Bucky leaned on Steve's faith: it was the bedrock he built most of his existence on. But right then -

'You don't know that,' he growled. 'You can't stubborn away medical problems. This is serious.'

Steve looked taken aback. 'Buck—'

'Don't.' Bucky took a deep breath, then another. Poor Isaac circled him and yapped for attention, but Bucky ignored him. Steve seemed to be petting Mary on autopilot. 'He might never wake up. His family might take him off the machine in what, a few months? Years? That's on... me.'

'If it's on you then it's on me too,' Steve interrupted sternly.

'You didn't want this, _I_ pushed for a third Cap.'

'Do you take me for someone who lets people push him into things he doesn't want? Really?' Steve put his hands on his hips.

'Not people, but me, yeah. If I told you to jump off of the roof you would, Steve,' Bucky allowed himself a sad little smile. 'You've always been better than me, you wouldn't have put others at risk just to have more free time...'

He couldn't look at Steve anymore, or at the dogs, and suddenly even the pictures on the wall blurred into colorful blotches as he swallowed back tears.

'Bucky-'

'So now I must be— not selfish, and say that we'll stop. We can't do this to somebody else—' and Steve was there, and he pulled him close with the same arms that had put Bucky back together countless times before, held his head in gentle artist-hands, and Bucky breathed into his neck and clung to him like when they were children and he was afraid of losing Steve.

'Whatever you want,' Steve murmured to his ear, and held Bucky until a SHIELD agent rang to say she'd brought Daisy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: missions gone wrong, self-harm (accidental and non-graphic), self-worth issues, a panic attack, guilt, hurt/comfort, an emotional cliffhanger at the end of the chapter. TWS references. 
> 
> \---  
> The Caps are still from the comics. Yes, the guy who couldn't climb the wall wanted to be Captain America. I mean. And so did the guy in the previous chapter who broke his arm the first time he tried to use the shield. That canonically happened.
> 
> Steve's art style is strongly inspired by [@Speranza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speranza/pseuds/Speranza) and the ['4 minute window'](https://archiveofourown.org/series/197993) series (yay I figured out the links! i'll go back and add the rest later)
> 
> Also if anybody spots mistakes about explosions (no, mushroom clouds can happen without nuclear bombs, that's not a mistake no matter what my beta keeps telling me) and bureucratic agency-talks, please hit me up. 
> 
> Uhh, remember when I said this was going to be fluffy and happy? Well, sorry for that. But I promise, no lasting damage. Cross my heart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit hits the fan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off, im dead tired, so if there are mistakes... sorry.
> 
>  
> 
> so yeah, shit hits the fan here, and. while i promised a happy, fluffy, crack-y story with barely any cliffhangers, this is the moment i backtrack and tell you that there are hard times ahead. (in my defense when i was writing it it didn't seem so angsty.)
> 
>  
> 
> huge thanks to araydre and menatiera for their help!!!

**Chapter 4**

Things went back to what constituted as some resemblance of normalcy in their lives. They had to hide every pair of shoes, slippers, boots and footwear because Daisy notoriously chewed on every single one otherwise. She got on well with Isaac and a bit less so with Mary, but a week later they all napped in one pile of fur and limbs on the living room rug.

Roscoe's relative(s), whoever they were, didn't want to take care of her - or maybe Coulson didn’t ask them to - because she remained with Steve and Bucky, and she missed her guardian _heartbreakingly_. The new place excited her, as it would've any puppy, but she whined all night and wouldn't be calmed easily, not even by being called Sweetie Pie. Bucky tried every single one of his dog treat ideas to try to placate her, and while their fridge overflowed with frosty paws and the like, Daisy remained heartbroken.

Both Steve and Bucky bore the new responsibility with the endurance of those who knew they deserved it.

They didn't tell SHIELD about the change of plans, but SHIELD must've caught on because no word came about a further candidate.  Bucky got called on charity events more than Steve now, who became the go-to mission Cap. About 70% of the reasoning behind that logic was that Bucky had a much better poker face than Steve - he had longer to practice it, after all - and Steve couldn't bear smiling for the camera on command lately; the remaining 30% was that as long as Steve was punching supervillains, he wasn't tearing SHIELD agents a new one, so a win-win scenario for SHIELD.

But Bucky was hardly in the mood to play the smiling hero for the people despite the fact that he faked it like a pro, which was all that SHIELD cared about, and the lack of action missions meant a new kind of isolation from fellow superheroes which he resented - especially when it was him alone with just the dogs, two of which whined after Steve and one of which whined after her true guardian.

In just four weeks time Bucky started seriously resenting the shield while Steve started seriously resenting SHIELD.

Steve brought up the issue of a third Cap a few times, or at least he tried to, but Bucky consistently shot him down.  Irony upon irony was that _now_ he was avidly devoted to the idea when Bucky just wasn't, anymore. And sometimes Steve went about it the pretty way around.

‘I saw your latest blog post,’ Steve said, and Bucky could tell he had practiced being nonchalant on the way home from where he took the mutts out.

‘Yeah?’, Bucky said, and his disinterest wasn’t faked. He knew Steve stalked his blog, and he knew Steve would take it the wrong way, but. He didn’t have the energy to agonize over blogging.

‘I’m worried about you, Buck,’ Steve said, and he sat down, cross-legged, next to Bucky. Bucky turned his head to look at him, but otherwise remained on his back on the floor, just like he had been for the last hour or so.

‘I’m fine, Steve.’

‘Then why did you put all your blogs and channels on hiatus?’

‘I just don’t feel like cooking. Or baking. Or anything related. It’ll pass.’

‘You don’t feel like doing anything else either,’ Steve pointed out, then pulled Daisy off of Bucky.

Bucky was torn between saying ‘that’s not true’ and ‘so what’, so he said neither.

‘You don’t leave the house for anything other than a mission and you only do what you can’t get away with avoiding, like watering your herbs or exercising,’ Steve said. ‘Please. Can you at least talk to somebody about this? It doesn’t have to be me, it can be a therap--’

Bucky snorted. ‘Yeah, sure, I’ll tell the SHIELD shrinks how I feel, they sure won’t use that to gloat and say “I told you so”.’

The earnest expression vanished from Steve’s face. ‘They’re not allowed to share that information with anybody.’

‘C’mon, Steve, I know you’re not naive enough to believe they won’t tell Fury.’

Steve pursed his lips. ‘Then at least talk to Sam. You don’t have to tell him everything-’

‘I can’t tell Sam or Tony _anything_. I don’t want to end up in the Raft for breaching privacy policy and you going fugitive to rescue me, nor do I want _them_ getting into trouble because of me. I got enough on my plate as it is.’ Bucky turned back to staring at the ceiling. It was an interesting ceiling.

‘Roscoe wasn’t your fault,’ Steve said firmly, and Daisy perked up at the mention. Bucky closed his eyes.

‘Tell that to the dog in your lap.’

‘I’m telling you!’ and yeay, Steve was angry now, but he took a few deep breaths before speaking again. ‘You- you were right, you were absolutely right. We can’t keep on doing this, being Cap-’

‘Yes we can,’ Bucky sat up suddenly, and Isaac trotted closer but Bucky ignored him, ignored all three dogs but Steve. ‘We can because I’m not putting another man in danger.’

‘Taking that risk is their choice,’ Steve said, anger - or something else, something hard, underlying his words. ‘That comes with the responsibility of the shield.’

‘A third Cap wouldn’t solve anything, anyway,’ Bucky went on. ‘Why do you think I was called in as the Winter Soldier to Siberia? Why do you think you were getting more and more stealth missions? SHIELD will never let us go.’

‘But it’s hurting you.’

Bucky was surprised to see that Steve didn’t latch onto SHIELD’s angle of the story; his voice even had a desperate edge to it.

‘It’s crushing you, I can see it. You don’t cook, you don’t read, you don’t listen to music, you don’t _care-_ ’

‘I do _care_ ,’ Bucky snarled. ‘I care more than you would in my place; I care enough not to jump headfirst into suicide missions!’

Bucky said that with every intention of hurting Steve, and Steve recoiled just as expected, his knuckles white from being balled into fists - but then his eyes narrowed as he studied Bucky.

‘No, you just let your guilt destroy you from the inside, because that is so much _better_ and healthier,’ he hissed, but his voice wobbled at the end. ‘Just like during the war and when we came outta the ice.’

Now Bucky reeled back as if he had been hit. ‘At least I don’t pretend I know better than everybody else from a fucking high horse,’ he practically spat when he found his voice again, then got up and slammed the door behind him to have a drag in fucking peace.

~*~*~

Having had learned their lesson about being passive-aggressively mad at each other when they found themselves in a new century meant that after avoiding each other for the rest of that day, they had the kind of angry sex that justified having soundproofed walls. Steve cuddled to him afterwards in a way that Bucky understood as an apology, and the next day Bucky at least put up an effort and went walking and working out with him.

But of course Steve Rogers had never been the one to let anything go in his life, ever, and he brought the issue up again two days later.

'Do you not want Cap to come out either?' he asked quietly.

 _Fuck_. Bucky had completely (and blissfully) forgotten about that part of their plans.

But if he said yes then they _would_ need a third Cap, regardless of other personal gains. If they got suspended for breaching privacy policy and SHIELD thrusted the suit to someone of their liking, that might as well could be a death sentence - to the new Cap, to some random bad guys, or an innocent bystander Cap wouldn't reach in time, it didn't matter. None had any appeal.

But for the coming out, Bucky would need to propose, and soon.

Which he wanted to, he really did. His love for Steve was a constant that overwrote any temporary clashes. And the ball of anxiety in his stomach grew each time he thought about the ring hidden away in the cupboard, so about four or five times per day. But it just... seemed so wrong after everything that happened with Roscoe. Bucky felt they had no right to celebrate when he was still in coma. As if Roscoe mattered so little to them that they could just move on as if nothing had happened.

Plus if he kept on waiting, chances were that Steve, never famous for his patience, would beat him to it. That wouldn't be too bad, considering, but then Bucky would feel completely useless - and he just wanted to hear Steve say _'yes'_ , had wanted that since before he learned that boys weren't supposed to propose to other boys.

Times like this he really wished he had friends to discuss these issues with, because he really couldn't have just made a blogpost about the problems that come with secret identities without, well, disclosing their secret identities.

And the whole thing just circled back to the simple solution of coming out and making friends at work, which was tied closely with having a third Cap.

Fuck.

'Can I think about it,' he rubbed his nose.

Time. He needed more time. And possibly a pause button on life. Maybe he should ask Tony about that, or simply climb back into the ice.

'Yeah, sure,' Steve said, and it was hard to resist his crestfallen face, but at least the night didn’t end in a shouting match.

~*~*~

More than ever Bucky wished that Peggy didn't have dementia - but of course a cosmic joke at their expense wouldn't have allowed the _only person_ from their past that had clearance high enough (had had, technically, not that it mattered much) to remember them properly. There was no use overwhelming her now with his issues, though, even if the idea of hopping on a plane and having a heart to heart became increasingly tempting.

She probably would've just hit him on the head anyway and told him that he was an overthinking idiot, which was much less funny than when she called Steve an overdramatic idiot.

Instead of paying a special visit to her, Bucky kept entertaining ideas in his head about talking to either Tony or Sam, despite what he told Steve, but he came up empty handed every time. There just simply wasn't a simple and believable allegory to his problem that he could disclose. Captain America as a symbol grew too big for him to beat, again.

In lieu of an independent therapist or friends with the required level of clearance - because, just as he told Steve, there was no way he'd talk to the SHIELD shrinks about his issues with SHIELD - Bucky had to do some serious introspection of his own. It helped somewhat that he'd always been excellent at multitasking and balancing various factors of an equation at once - kind of a must for a sniper, really. You had to take the sun, the wind, the deluge, the angle, the rifle, the bullets, the target, the position... so practically everything into account for a successful shot. So now he just had to juggle everything again, only on a slightly bigger scale. He could do this.

It helped somewhat that even though he couldn't rant about what was on his mind to either Tony or Sam, years of friendship ensured that he heard their advice loud and clear in his head even without them actually _knowing_ about his problems. Well, Sam's, at least. He wasn't sure he'd be better off with Tony given that according to his own account, the genius had been carrying around a ring ready to propose to Pepper for about seven years at that point. Maybe Bucky shouldn't take a page out of his book.

Sam, though. Sam would've called him an idiot, much like Peggy would've. (Bucky wanted to simultaneously introduce them to one another and keep them as far away as possible.) Not for his misgivings about their whole business around Captain America and SHIELD and everything, although... Sam left the service for a good reason, and even with only knowing a fourth of their issues he openly was on the belief that so should Steve and Bucky. Or at least establish stronger boundaries. How Bucky was supposed to do that, though, was up for debate.

But Sam would’ve chewed him a new one for holding back because of - what? What exactly was holding Bucky back, he'd ask. Roscoe? The man's been in a coma for weeks with no sign of waking up. (Sam’d have also probably told Bucky that that wasn't his fault, but Bucky wasn't gonna do that himself. Hearing Steve was more than he could bear anyway.) And Roscoe wouldn't have wanted Steve and Bucky to not get married because of him. Knowing him he'd probably want the opposite, with the note that Daisy should be the ringbearer.

The best advice had come from the olds in the VA, back on that awareness event Sam had dragged them to. “Steve was always at war,” they kind of said, and as long as Bucky was with Steve - so as long as they were going to be alive - he would be inevitably at war as well. Whether that was with the world, with SHIELD, with himself, did not matter much. War was war. And Bucky was a soldier: he could do this.

This kind of new realization helped clear his head. And reluctant was though Bucky to admit it, Steve had been right. Bucky was suffering thanks to this situation they ended up in with SHIELD, and SHIELD wasn’t gonna help them out. They’d need to do that themselves, just as they always had.

Marriage was the simplest part of his problems, the only one he could solve easily without getting into the more complex and complicated ones of which it was independent of: they could get married without coming out or finding a new Cap. The same wasn't true in reverse, so logically it also made sense that they should get it over with to clear the table.

And then maybe Bucky should just sit down and talk to Steve, since not only was he highly involved in this mess but he was also Bucky's best friend and would be over the Moon to be able to help.

~*~*~

Marriages in their day were fundamentally different than in the 21st century. For one thing they were a certainty, a must: unless you wanted to be labelled as a "confirmed bachelor" or something similar and be socially inconvenienced (if not imprisoned) for life, your goal was to find a partner and settle with them. How the later decades managed to twist wedlock into something women desperately wanted but men hated and despised he'd never understand, especially since now you were allowed to marry whoever you wanted - why wouldn't you want to show the world you are a part of a we, not an I, plus enjoy the legal and financial benefits that came with that?

Another thing, but closely entwined with the first, was that marriage used to be an economical relationship first and an emotional second. A family unit was much better at surviving hard times than a lone individual was, and had same-sex marriage been legal during the thirties Bucky would've wed Steve the moment they both turned eighteen just for that reason alone even if they hadn't been madly in love at the time already. With this came the lack of... flamboyance modern weddings were overflown with. Folks just dressed up in their Sunday bests, went to the Church maybe with some close relatives, and that was that. No extravagant dresses, hundreds of guests, food to feed an army, _wedding planners_ \- Bucky could just imagine his Ma's face if he told her that those kinds of things were needed if you wanted a happy and long-lasting marriage.

Even engagements were simple. Diamond rings started becoming the craze around the time Bucky shipped out, but before that you could just simply take a walk one day and tell your beloved that you wanted to marry them - well, _her_ , as social norms went - without any theatrical show of love such as fireworks, sunsets or whatever other crazy thing people came up with.

See, the shift from the economical to the emotional aspect as the basis of a marriage Bucky supported wholeheartedly. The other excessive shit? Not so much. He would've had trouble with someone who didn't understand these things, but lucky for him he and Steve shared plenty of life experiences.

~*~*~

Coney Island used to be their favorite when they were little. All those attractions, the smells, the people - whenever they had a couple of cents to spare they'd go and blow it on some form of amusement - always together, like peas in a pod. One of the only places they kissed out in public had, in fact, been on the top of the Wonder Wheel when they were alone in their slot on that one beautiful and risky night.

In the modern days they could kiss pretty much wherever and whenever they wanted, and they also had enough excitement in their lives to forego the rides without a second thought - the dogs wouldn't have been allowed, either. The Cyclone became a taboo between them after the almost-fatal train ride in the Alps anyway.

They cherished the place for the nostalgia value, first and foremost, then the food: some of the booths had been there in the '20s, though nothing really tasted like anything back then.  Not that Bucky was complaining. As an added bonus, their appetite combined with supersoldier metabolism meant that they could never eat themselves sick, just pleasantly full.

Then there was the fact that they could be just two anonymous guys with three excited mutts in a crowd. No pressure, no need to fit in or stand out; just normal people doing normal things. They enjoyed some of the typical amusements one could have at an amusement park: Bucky won Steve a stuffed bear by shooting perfectly with a rigged gun after only three unfruitful attempts (the bear was then given to a crying toddler, because Steve couldn't have pretended he didn't have a heart of gold even if he'd tried); they loaded themselves with as many candied apples, hot dogs and popcorn as they could safely carry, and took a walk on the Broadwalk.

All the smells from the booths, then the ocean breeze combined with the city's aura was just like back then. People ran into the water to cross things off of their bucket lists; others came to play fetch or threw balls. Some kids got together for a street style dance performance, and Steve lingered to watch and clap and toss a couple of dollars into the hat that was offered up at the end.

If Bucky could've chosen, he would've wanted to spend every day like this: quietly, with Steve pressed to his side, safe in the knowledge that they had enough money to eat here and had a warm place with a roof over their heads waiting at home, Mary and Isaac chasing seagulls in the sand. Then again knowing that they helped keeping this place safe, and would continue doing so, also filled him with a certain type of warmth he treasured.

The Sun went down slowly and everything became proportionately busier. Nighttime was a different kind of life in a big city, especially in New York. They sat at the side of the pavement where they could see the waves and the lights and the waves _reflecting_ the lights. Bucky played with the hem of his shirt.

'I love the city,' Steve said, out of the blue - they had just been discussing the chances the Cubs had for winning the league. 'But I wish we could see the stars every now and again.'

So many answers run through Bucky's head - y _ou can see it on missions, I see one every time I look at you, what would you wish for if you saw one falling?_ \- but he settled on a simple 'So do I.'

Steve looked at him, and the night lights painted miniature stars in his eyes. Bucky refrained from a joke about the star-spangled man with a plan: no need to bring work into a night like this.

'We couldn't live in the countryside, though,' Bucky pointed out.

'No way,' Steve agreed. 'I wouldn't know what to do with all the green.'

'Paint it, probably,' Bucky said, and Steve let out a laugh that had Isaac perk up from his rest.

Bucky waited for the perfect opening all night, and this was the moment he realized no better one would come. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box.

Steve's eyes were round as a plate.

'Steven Grant Rogers,' Bucky said, and looked into Steve's eyes which was a mistake, because he suddenly forgot what he wanted to say, not that anything mattered when Steve was looking back at him like he was the most precious piece of art he had ever seen, and _oh, right_ , _proposal,_ 'will you marry me?'

And suddenly he had a lapful of Steve throwing his arms around him and repeating 'Yes, yes, yes,' over and over again.

When he pulled back he kissed Bucky with a heat that promised more would come later, and Bucky pulled the ring onto his right hand's ring finger. Steve rested his forehead against Bucky's and his hand at Bucky's neck, and Bucky felt a tear or two running down his face just to mirror Steve's own.

Daisy got up and sniffed them, unused to this weird and new behaviour, and Steve let out a wet laugh. 'Okay, good,' he said with a goofy smile, 'but we can't let you go without one, too,' and to Bucky's absolute _astonishment_ he pulled out a band of his own from somewhere and pulled it on Bucky's flesh ringfinger while Bucky was gaping too much to be able to say anything.

Steve blinked sheepishly. 'I wanted you to be ready first,' he murmured, hand stroking Bucky's hair gently.

Bucky had a hard time seeing the beautiful metal around his finger, the cold slowly warming up to his body's temperature, and Steve's - well, everything. _Steve_.

'I was ready since I met you,' Bucky croaked. 'But just... so much happened... and SHIELD-'

'Shhh,' Steve said and pulled them close so that their foreheads were touching again. 'This is ours. Cap doesn't get a say in it.'

His fierceness eased Bucky's tension and put a small smile on his face. '...and Roscoe,' he added, because he wanted Steve to - just be Steve and make everything better.

Steve shut his eyes for a moment, then fixed Bucky with eyes on fire. 'He will wake up. And he'll be happy for us.'

'Okay,' Bucky took a deep breath, then another - then he guided Steve's right hand to his own to marvel at the sound of their rings clicking. 'Okay.'

'We'll have to find a way to get your wedding bands on the metal,' Steve mused, apparently just as awed by the sensation as Bucky.

'Already have,' Bucky smiled, and he basked in the surprised and pleased hum Steve let out. 'So. You're stuck with me, Rogers.'

'I am,' Steve agreed happily. ''Till the end of the line?' And the fact that it was a real question showed just enough of Steve's own insecurities and hopes and dreams that Bucky's heart ached, so he squeezed their hands until their rings left marks on their skin.

''Till the end of the line,' he said, and he had never been more certain of anything.

~*~*~

Both their pagers beeped around 3AM.

Bucky wasn't even surprised as he blinked sleep from his eyes: it was a small miracle in itself that their whole day, including the trip to Coney Island, the proposal, the walk back home when they couldn't keep the grin off of their faces and their eyes off of their rings, the mindblowing celebratory sex, and them falling asleep with their fingers entwined went uninterrupted. What _was_ surprising was that Bucky's pager read _Winter Soldier_ and Steve's read _blue Cap_ and _both_ pagers read the same coordinates - Captain America and the Winter Soldier were hardly ever on a mission at the same time, let alone together, nowadays.

They dressed groggily but quickly, and Steve poured food and water into the dog's dispensers and Bucky made sure there was enough litter in their box. If they had to be away for days they'd ask SHIELD to notify their dog sitter, but the mutts were good for a day alone. Then Steve stopped for a moment to contemplate his ring before putting his gloves on.

'I know it's dangerous,' he said, 'but I don't wanna take it off.'

Bucky looked at his own hand: he put on his glove without any thought about taking the ring off first. 'Then don't,' he said. 'I can't imagine a scenario where you'd be in more risk with it on.'

Steve rewarded that with a sloppy kiss, and then they were out the secret elevator and on separate bikes for appearance’s sake despite the shared coordinates.

The few minutes long ride to the heart of the city helped clearing Bucky's head adequately. Timing wasn't the best - him as the Winter Soldier meant that he'd most likely be out of the country for some time whereas he wanted nothing more than to hold Steve's hand as they told their friends about their engagement; plus the memory of his last mission as the Winter Soldier still left a hollow ache in his heart, too familiar to that of thinking about Roscoe.

They stopped at the last floor the bikes were allowed in a multi-storey parking garage right under the roof, turned off their engines and dismounted. Steve arched an eyebrow at Bucky - weird. SHIELD was usually less sneaky and creepy about sending both Caps - well, Cap and the Soldier, but it wasn't like the higher ups didn't know who they both also were - into a dark rooftop in the middle of the night, _without any briefing_ , and with a look they settled on playing it safe. Steve held his shield tight, and Bucky was ready to lunge, stab or shoot at any moment when it became clear that no agents were waiting with directions - but the coordinates referred to the top floor, so. Maybe there?

They found the emergency stairwell's exit at the back and went up; Steve  first, holding his shield up to protect both of their midsections. Bucky followed after, keeping an eye out for every direction and watching his six with his favorite Skorpion. They were equally tense, both of their instincts and years of practice telling them that something was off, and Bucky would’ve loved to go on a Winter Soldier mission without feeling that just once, thank you and goodbye.

The rooftop was full of shadows, the orange night lights of the city broken by black shapes in which anything could hide. There was no sight of an official SHIELD escort, or any escort, really, but especially on an operation with both of them involved, they should have handlers and teams each. They should’ve had a briefing. Maybe even a Quinjet. Where were the mission parameters? The objective?

But the SHIELD comm lines were hard to hack, or at least the agents’ pagers were. That was a fundamental basis on which the organization was built and operated on.

And if someone had gotten into the system they could’ve tracked the pagers anywhere and attacked a superhero while they were asleep, or buying stuff at the grocery store, both hands full of bags. It made no sense to lure them out here, especially with both of them armed to their teeth.

This situation just did not add up to anything sensible.

Then they heard it: a scratching and wheezing sound from the left. They turned and moved in unison, and behind some container boxes and plastic chairs left out, was Director Fury coughing up blood and looking up at them with one eye from where he was sitting with his back pressed to the wall and gun aimed at them.

After a moment of standstill, Fury was the first to lower his weapon, and Steve followed suit with his shield, but Bucky was hesitant to put away his submachine until Steve signaled to stand down.

'Took you long enough,' Fury croaked. It appeared like he took multiple gunshots and possibly a heavy beating that resulted in some broken ribs, amongst other things.

'We were here within 10 minutes,' Steve said, probably because much like Bucky, he couldn't think of anything else to say. 'But I think you should've called an ambulance. We're not doctors.'

Steve was tense as a coil and ready to jump, and he made a movement that could’ve been interpreted as the decision to move closer. Bucky’s left arm whirred at the same time Fury shook his head, and Steve stopped. Then Fury reached under his leather coat - Bucky raised the Skorpion again - but Fury only pulled out a phone.

'The stars are beautiful tonight,' he said, to which neither Bucky nor Steve reacted - no star was visible over their heads, only on Steve’s chest and shield and Bucky’s sleeve. But Fury was typing with one hand as the other was pressed to one of his wounds. When he turned the phone a message glowed in the dark, written in white bold letters and accompanied by a bloody fingerprint:

**YOU CAN BE THE CURE FOR A DISEASE AGAIN.**

_What.the.hell._

'I bet, pity you can't see them,' Steve replied to what Fury said and not what he wrote, although his facial expressions must have covered that as well.

 **I'M SORRY. YOU ARE THE ONLY ONES WHO CAN HELP** , came the next message, and Bucky had to consciously relax his grip on the handle to prevent his fingers going numb. _What the fucking hell was happening?_

'Some things you just have to believe in,' Fury said.

 **I BELIEVE IN YOU** , the phone said.

A gunshot rang through the night, blood splattered onto Steve's shield, and Fury collapsed.

Steve and Bucky moved at the same time: Steve jumped in front of Fury to cover him with the shield and check his pulse while Bucky darted for the cover of the shadows, from where he fired twice in quick succession in the direction of the original gunshot. He moved instantly again, having betrayed his location, but no answering fire came, so he ran towards the shooter's presumed location.

'I'm in pursuit!' he called over his shoulder, but Steve didn't answer - he was already calling SHIELD for backup, Bucky heard once his ears stopped ringing.

He jumped over the edge of the roof to get to the nearest building, relying on superserum to make the two floors down and the four-lane wide distance across. Thank god Steve had his shield, at least Bucky didn't have to worry about that, though he'd be calmer if his anti-gun of a partner had a gun or three of his own as well.

He jumped again to the nearest condo, this time using his metal arm to catch the rails and start climbing up, and up, and up until he reached the 20 floors high building's top. Nobody fired again; not at him, and not at Steve and Fury either, and that was mostly because the rooftop was empty when he got there. Correction: emptied. Not even gunshells or other visible traces to find, although it was clearly from the angle and the process of elimination that this had been the place.

Bucky went to all four edges and looked down and saw nothing, which wasn't surprising as the shooter could've used the stairwell or some kind of a parachute and would be far away by then.

Not wanting to contaminate the possible crime scene more he trotted down the stairwell, keeping an eye out for any sign of malevolence, then up again 12 floors in the garage next door to Steve and Fury.

By the time he got back SHIELD also showed up. The paramedics hurried away with Fury while Steve gave his report and agents secured the scene. Bucky stood by Steve's side and allowed himself a moment to wonder how the hell they got from last night to _here_ , what with the director of the organization that employed them bleeding out in front of their eyes. After passing on some cryptic messages. About _stars_.

Steve obviously decided against mentioning said cryptic messages to Hill, opting instead to claim that Fury was shot before he could say anything. Technically that was true. The problem was only that something else must've also happened while Bucky went after the shooter because Steve went all mumbly and distant at some points - he still was a horrible liar. Hill, naturally, picked up on it like a shark a drop of blood in water, but Steve sidestepped - or rather, side- _tumbled_ \- the questions and started talking about his deductions about the weaponry based on Fury's wound.

This was the moment Bucky smoothly stepped in and gave his mission report. Hill sent her men to the nearby rooftops, and after making sure everything was on record and their pagers in plastic bags for analysis she offered them a ride to medical.

~*~*~

Fury was transported to the New York division’s medical, and the three of them weren't the only ones watching how the docs tried to save his life. Crossbones and some other agents were already there, but they made room for Cap and the Winter Soldier, and Black Widow arrived a few minutes later. His popularity wasn’t a surprise: Fury knew most of the employees' secrets, and multiple sources could attest to Bucky's experience that he did his best to help the superhero community. Even so, Bucky was still a little taken aback to see the Widow crumble beneath her carefully constructed mask when Fury flatlined and the doctors called it.

Bucky made peace with Death a long time ago; perhaps even before when he saw the guy he'd just borrowed some cheap comics from blow up two feet ahead of him in the trenches. Even a couple of years in the future couldn't erase the constant fear of passing that war imprinted on a soul, and he himself wasn't surprised or shocked by Fury's death, just felt that something that he had unconsciously been waiting for finally happened.

Steve, though. His leather gloves creaked with how much his hands were balled into fists, and the worst was that Bucky couldn't reach out and unfurl them himself.

'Do we have ballistics?' Steve asked.

Hill fixed him with a long, hard look through teary lashes before saying, 'Not yet'.

They filed out of the room one by one. Black Widow vanished in one direction, Crossbones and his field agents in another, and the whole of SHIELD seemed to be in a buzz. Bucky didn't know or care about the protocol but they must have had some in place.  All he wanted to do was to go home with Steve and hug the dogs.

Steve held his shoulders up and tense, and Bucky wished for some convenient telepathy to know what was going on in his head. They couldn't talk here, not with agents around, and if Fury was reluctant to talk to them outright that meant that either he or them were bugged, which, while not being completely surprising, still made Bucky itch on the inside.

Someone ordered them to read through and sign their reports about what happened to Fury, so they sat down in a small office with the pile of papers at hand and put their aliases on the dotted lines. Bucky caught Steve's eye once, before he put the tip of the pen to the paper the first time, and Steve nodded steadily.

He really knew more than he let on, which would probably come bite them in the ass later, but didn't mean Bucky wouldn't follow him anyway.

He signed.

Most of it was the truth, anyway: they - or at least Bucky - had no idea why Fury called them, who had beaten him beforehand, who shot him later, and in general what the hell was going on.

SHIELD wouldn't like that.

Bucky wondered where Coulson was, and who the next director would be - his bet would’ve been somewhere between Coulson and Hill. He had the unassuming fade-to-the-shadows attitude, while she ruled with an iron fist. Maybe they should team up - although then nobody opposing would have had half a chance, so maybe not.

Some agent took their reports, and then they waited, and waited, and waited for a dismissal that just didn’t come.

Who came instead was Crossbones, of all people. Apparently they had him on bullpen duty because he wasn't dressed for combat, though the crossed bones on his chest were a staple. If Bucky cared more about Crossbones he'd have wondered if he got the name because of his preference of clothing, or was that the other way around, but as of late the only thing he cared about regarding Crossbones was not having to work with him on missions, which he got after his report to Fury. Bucky hoped Internal Affairs made Crossbones’s life hell.

The feeling seemed to be mutual because Crossbones hardly even looked his way as he told Cap he was needed upstairs. He was on the side of giving actual orders and Bucky surpressed a sigh - Steve _hated_ when someone tried ordering him around. Especially right after being an asshole to his fiancé.

Hah. Bucky would've loved to see his face after that particular bomb.

But "upstairs" in SHIELD was not just literal but metaphorical as well as it meant some higher ups wanted a talk with Cap, and it wasn't exactly hard to guess what about. So Bucky got comfortable - well, as comfortable as he could get on a plastic chair after the night they had, running on two hours of sleep and anxiety - for a long wait, only to be called in for debrief not ten minutes later.

He followed the agent who led him down a few floors, which - usually debrief happened up, with less civilian and more superhero presence. And instead of a simple office or tactical planning space, he was instructed inside an interview room with smoked glass and two chairs across a table.

Bucky gritted his teeth. He tried to find a rational reason for this, and maybe witnessing the killing shot for the head of SHIELD was that reason. But he was paranoid when he was a jewish kid during the Depression, and he was paranoid when his CO was fucking him during WWII, and he was paranoid when it came to protecting his superhero identity in the 21st century, and he wasn't going to stop being paranoid anytime soon.

It wasn't paranoia if they really were out to get you, after all.

He felt that something was off for the second time in under 3 hours - if this was procedure, then why take one witness to the higher-ups and one down to an interrogation room? - but he swallowed the feeling down as he sat to face the glass. If it was procedure, then he'd roll with it. If not... well.

Nothing happened first. His mind screamed at him that it was to put him on edge, but if so, they were doing a poor job as he'd been on edge for hours now, but as a sniper, he  also excelled at keeping calm and still in the face of danger.

Then an agent he'd never seen before walked in and sat down. He had a slim folder that Bucky recognized as his own report, but gave no introductions, just tried to stare Bucky down without saying anything.

Bucky sighed on the inside.

‘Winter Soldier, I’d like to go through your report,’ the agent finally said. He had an immaculate three-piece and two holsters underneath. Years of having worked with Coulson told Bucky that this man was a field agent at least, not an office lackey.  

‘Sure,’ Bucky said. ‘I’d like to know your name and clearance.’

‘That is, at this point, unnecessary,’ the agent said.

Bucky weighed his options, then nodded. ‘Alright.’

No names? Not even a SpecCoors serial? No _clearance_? Yeah, something was fucking wrong here, and the voice in Bucky’s head that constantly worried about Steve began yelling in earnest. Bucky willed it to the background. Oxygen mask on himself first.

‘Where have you been when you received the call on your pager?’

‘Asleep.’

‘Are you aware that your call was made at the exact same time as Captain America’s?’

‘It’s procedure that special agents be notified concurrently for joint missions.’

‘Do you know who issued the call?’

‘The SpecCoors, I’d presume.’

‘You’d presume.’ The agent raised an eyebrow. He had opened Bucky’s file and had a pen in his hand, but made no notes so far.

‘Well, SHIELD policy brochures tell me they are responsible for issuing missions, personnel detail, and everything that comes with, so yeah, I’d presume. I haven’t received a false call since working for SHIELD.’

‘Where was Captain America when you arrived to the location?’

‘Already taking off from his transport,’ Bucky said, hoping that Steve’d stick to the same story - Steve had, in fact, dismounted faster than Bucky.

‘What did you do next?’

‘I followed his lead to the top floor, according to the procedure, just as I’ve told Commander Hill and as it says in my report.’

‘How did you decide on lead and follow positions without clear mission parameters?’

Bucky looked at the agent like he was crazy. ‘Captain America has the highest clearance of all the special _and_ field agents. Of course he was going to be lead.’

‘You seem to be familiar with Captain America.’

‘I have worked with him in the past.’

Seriously. _Seriously._ What.the.hell.

‘Can you elaborate on that?’

Bucky masked the _are you for real_ question marks that were circulating in his mind. Did they _seriously_ send someone who didn’t know that Bucky was also Cap? Or at least who the Winter Soldier was?

‘I worked as his sidekick for a while,’ Bucky said, and pointedly didn’t look at the silver star on his left arm.

‘What happened next? On the location?’

Bucky repeated the same story for what felt like the tenth time that day. They proceeded with caution, found Fury, someone shot Fury. Only a fraction of the events omitted.

‘What is your preferred weapon of choice?’

What did that have to do with anything. ‘I like anything that lets me walk away in one piece.’

‘In your file your most used one is…’ the agent made a show to check, ‘The customized Springfield M1A 6.5 with the Leupold 4RT/L scope, is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was that weapon with you this morning?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because my clearance does not allow I check the M1A out of SHIELD unless specifically permitted for a mission.’

‘But you were otherwise armed?’

‘Yes. You have a catalogue of the weapons on my person that I handed in to SHIELD after Director Fury was attacked. I have permission to carry every single one as the Winter Soldier.’

‘Hm.’ The agent lazily turned some pages in Bucky’s file. ‘Tell me, Winter Soldier, would Captain America have a reason to lie?’

‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘Would Captain America have a reason to lie?’

 _What_. ‘Captain America can’t lie. Haven’t you heard?’

‘Would he have a reason to omit or obscure reality, then? For example, to protect someone?’

 _What._ ‘I think you should ask Professor X for that, or better yet, the Captain himself.’

‘What is your relationship with Captain America?’

‘I told you, I was his sidekick.’

‘What is your relationship with Captain America?’

‘I was his sidekick.’

The agent raised an eyebrow at Bucky again. ‘We can’t help you if you don’t cooperate.’

 _It doesn’t feel like you’re trying to help_ , Bucky bit back.

‘What was your relationship with Director Fury?’

‘He was my boss.’

‘Would Captain America lie to protect his men?’

‘You should really ask a telepath if you want to know how somebody thinks without asking them.’

‘Would you be more cooperative if I told you the Captain will face court martial for a false testimony?’

 _What.the.actual.fuck._ ‘Will he?’

‘If he lied to provide an alibi for you, he will.’

‘What would I need an alibi for?’

‘Winter Soldier, traces of your preferred M1A have been found on the rooftop where the deadly shot to Director Fury have presumedly been taken. With your DNA and traces of your movements.’

Now, fuck, hold on a second.

‘My DNA, yes, because I climbed there when I was in pursuit of the shooter. And I want a lawyer.’

‘Oh, come on, we’re just talking here. Now, if you, say, went up to the adjacent rooftop, shot Nick Fury, then hid your weapon in a trashcan of the  parking lot and walked casually back to the crime scene by the time the paramedics arrived, what reason would Captain America have to provide an alibi for you? Camaraderie? Loyalty? Something else?’

There was only one thing that kept Bucky from going completely into panic, and he focused on that with all his might. _The trashcan._ The trashcan became his beacon of hope.

‘You’re leading me,’ he said. ‘You’re sharing information with me only the perpetrator would know. If you’re following protocol and recording this conversation, then whatever I say from now on will be excluded in a case.’

Anger flashed in the agent’s eye, and Bucky breathed again.

‘What is your relationship to Captain America.’

‘You need special clearance for the special agents’ personal information, and since you haven’t even told me your name, I am forbidden to tell you anything,’ Bucky said. ‘I want a lawyer.’

‘What is your relationship with Captain America?’

‘I want a lawyer.’

And from then on, he stuck to that phrase. Whatever the fuck was going on, it was big, and Bucky wanted help - Bucky _needed_ help. Steve, and Tony, most likely, because, _fuck._ Fucking fuckity fuck. So kept repeating it, and sure enough, the agent’s patience ran out faster than Bucky’s.

‘Fine, come with me then.’ He stood up and gestured for Bucky to stand as well, then told him that Bucky could wait for a lawyer in a room not in use. Bucky’s every nerve was on high alert as they went out the door and down the hallway again. A couple of other agents joined them in a lazy semi-circle, and the first agent started talking again.

'We’ll call you a lawyer right away,' he told Bucky.

'Okay,' Bucky said.

Then the agent behind Bucky's back struck out. Bucky dodged the attack, blocked a hit with his left arm, then countered lightning-fast and it was _on_. They wouldn't have been a match for him even if he'd been holding back, which he decidedly wasn't, but then when he blocked again with his left arm it got stabbed with something that emitted _something_ that had him scream out in pain.

When his vision cleared he was on his knees and his metal arm vibrated erratically. He shook hair out of  his face and an agent off from where he tried to handcuff his right hand, then kicked the next and punched the last one out.

He looked at the unconscious agents scattered around, and that's when the alarm was sounded.

 _Shit_.

So something was definitely off with SHIELD, he could definitely establish that.

He stomped on the weird screwdriver-looking thing that was used to neutralize his arm - figures that SHIELD would have something against him, _fuck_ -, took a couple of guns and knives to compensate for the ones he willingly gave up when he entered the building, and also to compensate for his motionally limited left arm, then hopped towards the less-monitored stairwells. He had no idea why he was suddenly attacked by his employers, or why he was accused of _killing Fury_ , or what Steve’s _court martial_ threat was about, _fuck_ \-  but it would be a mistake to stay and try to find out. He had to find Steve and get the fuck out as fast as possible, otherwise -

Shots fired at him from around the corner and he tried in vain to lift his left arm up, but it was still too noncompliant. A bullet gazed his right shoulder, and he jumped into the first room on his right after returning the fire.

A janitor's closet. How ironic.

He barricaded the door with a broomstick, then vanished in the vents just as the first bullet shot through the thin door.

Bucky listed his options as his arm whirred painfully, trying to recalibrate: go back to the thick of it and try to find Steve or leave ASAP. At this point the first option seemed not only self-destructive but outright suicidal: if they tried to frame him then fired without warning then Bucky could fuck democracy and legal retributions. And who knows, maybe they fired at Steve too? That was hard to say given how little he knew about why they fired at _him_ , but Steve was the worst when it came to not angering bullies, so he was probably fired at too.

That thought had Bucky’s blood running cold. If they wanted to _court martial_  Steve, what the _everloving fuck_ , then of course Steve would resist. Especially if they told him about the still muddy charges against Bucky. Steve would go _ballistic._ But Bucky had no idea how he could find Steve in hostile territory without any kind of input -

'ALL ARMED FORCES TO THE 16TH FLOOR, REPEAT, ALL ARMED FORCES TO THE 16TH FLOOR', the speakers blared.

\- or he could just follow the telltale signs of trouble, that worked every time as a Steve-compass.

The vents were really not meant for a man of Bucky's size, but he ignored the pain and climbed steadily on until he reached the sounds of shots firing and people shouting. He identified bullets bouncing back from vibranium, positioned himself, then kicked a hole in the wall and came flying down feet first. Two agents went flying sideways like bowling pins, and a whooshing sound signalled the shield flying through the air and hitting a third.

Bucky picked the shield up  and knocked the fourth and the fifth out with the same momentum, and Steve was there to take three more out.

Bucky used the shield to block bullets that came from the end of the - for now abandoned - corridor, then changed hands behind it and fired back with his right. Steve pulled at his side, and they ran backwards to get some cover behind the corner.

Bucky gave the shield back to Steve and reloaded. 'What the hell,' he said.

'We need to get out,' Steve said, and he wanted to say more as he got sight of Bucky's arm but Bucky shook his head.

The corridor they were on was empty, for the moment, but a dead end as the door to their right was barricaded. The other side run back towards the heart of the building, and the other corridor they just came from had a bunch of people with the intent of shooting at them, so. Also a no.

Bucky was about to suggest the vents again when Steve stepped to window and looked down.

'No,' Bucky said immediately.

'If they lock down the building we'll be stuck,' Steve said.

Bucky hated Steve's crazy suicidal ideas, but he hated more when Steve was right. He swore elaborately.

'If you kill us, Cap, Imma come back and haunt your ass,' he promised, and Steve fastened the shield to his right hand and pulled Bucky with his chest to Steve's back, his right also holding on to the metal.

Then they shot through the glass and down 16 floors.

The shield protected their middle - thank fuck for energy-absorbing metals - and Bucky's still tricky left arm their heads. Bucky imagined the impact must've been similar to the Valkyrie going down, but at least he'd been blessedly unconscious for that, whereas now he was very much aware of every single bone in his body rattling back from the concrete. Even his brand new ring was pushed uncomfortably into his skin, and he never thought he'd have to take back his words about how non-dangerous they'd be this soon. His metal arm didn't thank him for the extra strain either, and Steve stumbled up with balled fists and jaws clenched too.

They ran to the garage side by side, and Bucky appreciated the extra time those 16 floors bought them because there were only two guards at the entrance. Second thought - one throw of the shield and make that two unconscious guards with their weapons finding new homes with Bucky.

Steve got on the first bike that started with a button instead of a key, Bucky climbed up behind Steve, then they barrelled through the closing gates.

A quinjet warned them to stand down, and when Steve pulled the gas, it too, opened fire. Bucky wished he had a grenade launcher, but in lieu of that he used the special SHIELD-design semi-automatic to aim for the rotor and after the fourth shot the jet went sideways and propelled to the ground. They made it to the other side of the bridge just in time as the smoking wreckage blocked the road behind them.

~*~*~

'What the everloving fuck just happened,' Bucky asked when they dismounted in an abandoned alley.

'SHIELD is compromised,' Steve said.

'You don't say,' Bucky growled.

'Let's make sure we're not bugged or tracked,' Steve said.

How they did that was by Steve walking into a small secondhand store, grabbing enough clothes for them both, and paying enough to prevent the cashier from calling the paparazzi. They changed into ill-fitting jeans and faded buttonups with jackets - Bucky had to navigate his uncooperative left with his right -, donned baseball caps and Bucky a pair of leather gloves, and left their gear on the bike. SHIELD would find it soon anyway. Bucky was reluctant about leaving his stolen weaponry behind as well, but there was no point risking a tracker.

He had a feeling that this fight, whatever this was, wouldn't be won by guns and knives anyway.

Steve bagged his shield, the only part of their gear they would take with them and also the only thing they could make sure wasn't bugged, in a huge plastic bag and they walked with heads down and headed for the center: the crowd would be their cover for now.

~*~*~

You had two enemies when you were on the run: running and stopping. Constant movement was the key, and so they moved at a convenient pace through the morning rush with Steve positioning himself to cover Bucky's limp left arm.

'How bad is it?' he asked.

Bucky lifted it as much as he could, which wasn't much, and showed that he could bend his fingers halfway. 'I got stabbed by this weird device that kinda short-circuited it.'

Steve swore. 'I thought it couldn't be short-circuited, unless with magic - that incident with Doctor Strange?'

'Well someone apparently designed something that did the job,' he bit back. 'Steve, what the _fuck_ is happening?'

Various emotions flashed through Steve's face, until he settled on disappointment and anger. He lowered his voice even more so that only Bucky's superhearing would pick it up. 'Fury told me that SHIELD is compromised before he died. I didn't tell Hill because, well. And then when I didn't tell Piecre, either-'

'That Pierce? The Secretary of State?' Bucky hissed.

'Yeah. Gave a speech about how Fury was his best friend and consequences and he said that the bullet in Fury's chest could be traced back to your sniper gun.'

Well, at least that matched Bucky’s side of the story.

'I don't get it,' Steve spat the words, and Bucky instinctively reached out to lay a hand on his arm but the contact sent a new wave of pain through his left side. Steve's face twisted as he didn't know where to touch without causing pain - in the end he pulled Bucky close with a hand on his hips. ‘When I said that was impossible, you were with me all night, he accused me of false testimony. I couldn't - God, I couldn't decide if telling him about our engagement would help things or make them worse, so I didn't.'

Bucky could imagine it so well: Steve, always the one for honesty, being torn by the need to protect him and seek justice.

‘So he doesn’t know? That we’re together? That we’re both Caps?’

Steve shook his head. 'No. I told him they were looking at the wrong corner, Pierce said he'd do everything to avenge Fury, then I left and got attacked by Crossbones and his men.'

'That rhymes with what happened to me,' and Bucky gave a rundown of his “interrogation” and ambush. Steve pursed his lips even more.

Two blocks later Bucky spoke again. 'I don't get why me,' he said. 'I'm not even the only sniper who could've taken that shot; anybody with average skills and the right scope would've been able to. And why try to drag you down as well? With that stuff about perjury?’

He knew that it wasn't really the main point of what happened, of _SHIELD being compromised_ , but his brain got hung on the mantra of 'I'm not nearly important enough for this' that he couldn't move on and think properly about the rest.

'Convenience, maybe,' Steve replied. 'They needed a scapegoat. What bothers me is how deep this thing runs: checking your rifle out with your credentials isn't something that janitors can do.' To Bucky's perplexed look he added, 'Yeah, they did that.'

'Fuck. Steve, we need to disappear. We need to regroup and maybe dye our hair, grow a beard - _shit_ , what will they do to the dogs-'

'Nothing,' Steve interrupted. 'Fury told me he deleted our civil info from the SHIELD database. They don't know who we are. I think that's why they attacked: they didn't want to lose track of us, once it became clear neither of us is willing to roll over and play dead.'

Well, that was a weight off Bucky's mind and an extra added to his shoulders. 'So he wanted us to make this right for him, whatever that means.'

 _I believe in stars._ Fuck Fury and everything, for real.

'Basically. He also gave me this,' and Steve pulled his sleeve up just a tad to show a sleek little pendrive only to hide it away immediately.

'Great. Just peachy,' Bucky grumbled. 'So SHIELD has it out for me and Fury had it out for SHIELD, and you got caught in the crossfire with the agenda to solve it all.'

'...essentially,' and Steve had the decency to look sheepish. ‘And SHIELD probably has it out for me too.’

'I swear to fucking God, Steve, only you can get yourself into these situations.' To Steve's somewhat hurt expression Bucky added, 'And you're a terrible liar.'

'Well, you got yourself tied to a terrible liar,' Steve raised his right hand to draw Bucky's eyes to his ring.

Incredibly, or not given what else happened, Bucky completely forgot about the engagement for a moment there. But it was enough to make him smile and squeeze his own fingers together to feel his own.

'I guess I did,' he sighed. Facing a who knows how big crisis of SHIELD was really not how he imagined their first days as an engaged couple would be spent, but he had to admit, it was fitting. 'So what's the plan?'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am. i am sorry. truly. i have no idea how this happened.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> salty Bucky, sassy Bucky, little ball of rage...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: standard warnings for Arnim Zola apply.
> 
>  
> 
> Huge thanks to [araydre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/araydre/pseuds/araydre) and [menatiera](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/) for their help!!!
> 
> I don't own the lines from the canon. Duh.  
>  

Every news channel blared CAPTAIN AMERICA AND WINTER SOLDIER WANTED within the hour, allegedly to question them about the death of the head of SHIELD. Which was close to the truth while also being a total lie, but at least Fury seemed to have really erased their civilian infos because no word of Steven Grant Rogers or James Buchanan Barnes was uttered - even though criminal procedure allowed supervillain IDs be outed to the public.

Going home was stupidly risky - SHIELD could’ve ambushed them there after lulling them into a false sense of security by not outing them.  But they needed clothes that fit to avoid attention, their own weapons, and money as the spare 50 bucks Steve had on him wouldn't have helped them for long. And most importantly: taking care of the dogs.

If SHIELD really didn't know who they were then they didn't know where to start looking for them, but that wouldn't hold out for long either. Someone was adding up the numbers and making conclusions about which employees had regular paychecks without doing seemingly anything, and their names would come up sooner or later. Better go ahead now than wait until SHIELD was at the door.

They checked the building first, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Fury appeared to have done a good job. The apartment, too, was empty save for the three excited dogs. The moment they made sure that nobody was lurking in the closet or underneath the bed Steve drew Bucky in for a bone-crushing embrace and then went to check his wounds.

'I'm fine,' Bucky protested. The bullet graze on his left shoulder was healed by now, and apart from his left arm there was nothing to worry about. Steve didn't relent: he pulled off Bucky’s gloves and jacket and gently took Bucky's arm in his hands. The plates made a low and unusual whirring sound, but at least Bucky could move it.

‘How bad?’

‘I think the nerve connections are healing,’ Bucky said. ‘And the arm is also re-calibrating itself. I can move it more and more.’

‘Pain?’

‘Tolerable.’ Better than when he still had the device stuck between plates, but worse as he didn’t have the mantra of ‘ _getoutgetoutGETOUT_ ’ overriding it.

'I shouldn't have taken us out the window,' Steve said.

'That was our best chance,' Bucky countered. 'We can't stay here long and we don't know if the place's bugged. Steve, I'm _fine_.'

Steve had a hilariously helpless expression on his face. 'We could call Tony—'

'No,' Bucky said. 'He's a civilian. Do you really wanna put him in danger?'

'No,' Steve sighed. He put his forehead against Bucky's and breathed. 'I'm sorry. I didn't want to put _you_ in danger either.'

'It was unavoidable, knowing you,' Bucky said and showed off his own ring. 'Let's get moving.'

They changed back into their own clothes but kept the caps. Thanks to their line of work, their backpacks were already ready with spare sets of clothes, emergency kits and non-perishable foods, so packing only entailed Bucky stacking his own weapons - which, given that they were non-SHIELD issues, he knew weren't tracked - to his body, and Steve emptying the whole safe's worth of cash into various hiding places on their person and in the bags.

Then he brought out their backup uniforms which had slightly older designs than their current ones, but the basics were the same: the star-spangled one for Steve and the black with one silver star for Bucky.

'You can't be serious,' Bucky said, annoyed partly at Steve and partly at his left arm which made fine movements barely possible. 'We don't know what SHIELD put in them!'

'We can check, we've got time for that.'

'You don't know that!'

Steve didn't budge. 'You gotta wear a uniform if you go to war.'

'Are you out of your mind?!' Bucky stood up and deliberately kept his voice even, although he very much wanted to scream. 'We are on the run for our _lives_! Our trademark suits will get us caught in five minutes, even without bugs!'

Isaac whined, and even Daisy had an upset way of her wriggling tail.

'We have to take these with us,' Steve objected with a steely expression. 'Look, he... he wanted _us_ to find out what's going on. It's symbolic.'

'Right. You gonna get us killed because of s _ymbolism_ and a _esthetic_ and a dead man's words.' He rubbed the bridge of his nose and hissed when Mary bumped into his left arm. ' _Fine._ You check for bugs then, I'll make sure at least the dogs survive this ordeal.'

He turned before Steve could say a word and fished his phone out, ignored the dozen missed calls from Tony, and arranged for Craig, their dogsitter, to pick up the dogs from the daycare later on.

Steve was going through the uniforms methodically. Bucky poured himself a glass of water, then threw some full bottles into their packs as well as all the extra protein bars from the cupboards.

‘I’ll get the plants to Dr. Windsor,’ Bucky said, then collected all of the living greens and put them next to their downstairs neighbor’s door with a ‘thank you’ note. Dr. Windsor knew the drill by this point.

The pendrive was on the table when Bucky got back to their apartment, unassuming, but he was certain it hadn't been there when Steve sat down on the couch.

'We can't use that here,' Bucky said, pointing at it. 'They'll locate us before we connect to the wifi.'

'Yeah, that's what I thought too,' Steve sighed.

'And we can't take our car. I'd say we walk and then steal one, if it comes to that.'

'Okay,' Steve, having won the battle for the uniforms, was content to concede.

~*~*~

They briefly debated going back to their bikes, however, but no sane wanted person goes back to the crime scene, especially when it’s the death scene of the Director of SHIELD. If the bikes would be traced back to their place, fine; nothing living remained there to be hurt. They even left their phones at home, turned off after a message each to Sam and Tony about being out of town for some time and the sim cards destroyed to avoid being tracked and make it harder to retrieve connections to their friends.

They stopped at an ATM to withdraw as much money as the machine would allow because untraceable cash was their best friend, then hopped on the train to the center to find themselves a busy free wifi spot in a mall.

Their backpacks and Steve's bag (covering his shield) made sliding through the crows somewhat difficult, but not impossible as a lot of shoppers had heavily loaded bags, too. They headed to the top floors, keeping a watchful eye out but acting for the most part natural.

Then someone grabbed Bucky's left shoulder in a hold that had his eyes watering, pushed him through a door, and aimed the tip of a really sharp blade at his throat.

Steve burst through the door after him, but his assailant positioned Bucky as a human shield to prevent Steve’s immediate retaliation. The sudden, debilitating pain in Bucky’s left brought some time to the attacker as well.

'Let him go,' Steve growled, holding his suddenly uncovered shield at the ready.

'Nah-huh. What will I have if not Captain America's Achilles heel as leverage?' said a deep, velvety female voice.

'What do you want leverage for,' Steve demanded more than asked.

'I want to know what Fury told you before he died,' she said, and it wasn't a request.

'Why does Black Widow care?' Bucky asked.

Steve's eyes bugged out of his head, and the knife prickled Bucky’s skin before she pushed him away. He steadied himself and turned around at Steve's side to look at her and their surroundings properly: she was petite with flamy red hair and steely eyes, and she looked no less deadly without the mask on than she had during all their previous meetings.

She also managed to find the perfect spot for ambush - the staff toilet. Well, at least it wasn't the janitor's closet _again_.

'Well done, you're smarter than you look,' she said approvingly, and positioned the blade of the spear-point clip to the ground. 'I care because I wanna know what happened to him. Rumour has it you killed him, Soldier.'

'I didn't,' Bucky simply said and tried to get his arm cooperating again without drawing attention to it. 'Don't know who did.'

'No, didn't think so,' she acknowledged with a sad nod.

'Why not,' he couldn't help but ask, even though he should've probably just been glad to hear someone believed him.

'Doesn't seem like the Cap style. Either of yours,' she shrugged lightly. 'But you,' she pointed at Steve, 'were with him during his last moments. I wanna know who killed him and his last words might lead me there.'

'Are you here on SHIELD's behalf?' Steve asked, and Bucky almost rolled his eyes in time with her.

'If I were, you'd be already in custody or six feet under. I'm here on my own behalf.'

'And why should we trust you?'

Bucky appreciated Steve's newfound trust issues, although the last thing he wanted was Black Widow as an enemy. Especially when she found them so easily and overpowered Bucky without breaking a sweat. But she, too, seemed to be game.

‘You shouldn’t,’ she said, but she clipped the knife shut regardless. ‘Not in this line of business.’

‘You cared about him,’ Bucky pointed out, choosing his words carefully, and Steve looked at him. ‘You were there when the docs couldn’t save him. You were affected. If you’re open with us about your reasons, we can be open with you in return.’

‘You’re gonna be dead within hours with that attitude when people in masks are out to get you,’ she said casually, and Steve raised his chin.

Bucky expected him to say something along the lines of “better to die honestly than to live dishonestly”, but instead Steve said, ‘Think of it as a quid pro quo. We share if you share.’

‘Seems more like a test to me.’

‘That works too,’ Steve shrugged. ‘You know what kind of folks we are, you know we keep our word. Prove that we can trust you and we will.’

Bucky held his breath for a moment - her impassive face did not calm his nerves. But instead of lashing out she pushed a strand out of her face and sighed.

'Once upon a time I was careless about who I used "my special skills" on,' she said, and Bucky took it as the admission for a lot of American blood spilled. 'I got on SHIELD's radar with a kill order, but my would-be assassin didn't pull the trigger. His superior was Fury and he gave me a second chance, and I switched sides and started working for them. I have a high interest in revenge. Lately I'm going by the name Natasha Romanoff. It's on my SHIELD record and everything.'

Her face projected the perfect "couldn't care less" attitude but Bucky had a hunch about how much revealing her secrets - or at least a fraction of them - cost her. He met Steve's eyes and decided that he'd put his own trust in Steve's judge of character.

Steve contemplated her without showing any emotion, just a slight furrow of his brows. Then, without any further gesture, he said, 'I'm Steve Rogers.'

'Bucky Barnes.'

'Wow,' she grinned at Bucky. 'And that's what's in your birth certificate? You must've had a hard childhood.'

'James Buchanan, if you insist, and I had.'

That shut her down quickly. 'Okay. Steve, Bucky, it's nice to meet you.'

'You too,' Steve said ever-politely. 'But if you turn against us it won't end nicely.'

The _especially against Bucky_ was heavily implied by a single meaningful look, which, _great_. Steve noticed his arm.

Natasha took one look into Steve's eyes to decide that yes, he was serious, so she nodded again. 'Don't worry, I won't stand in true love's way. Congratulations, by the way, I see you're finally tying the knot,' she nicked at his ring.

'How—' Steve spluttered.

'She's the Black Widow,' Bucky said, now openly massaging his left wrist.

'See, told you you were smart,' Natasha smiled with a too big and toothy smile. 'Now tell me what you got so far.'

~*~*~

Having the Black Widow as an ally might've been the only thing that saved them that day. First she knew exactly how to get the pendrive to cooperate insofar as giving them the location it could be fully accessed from, then she knew how much time they needed before the STRIKE team arrived with Crossbones in the lead to look for them. She outmaneuvered specially trained agents like a pro while laughing loudly at a joke neither of them made and linking her arms in theirs.

It played to their advantage that Crossbones & co. still didn't know how they looked like and they were only searching for two fit dudes in their thirties, not two fit dudes and a tiny ball of energy slurping Frappucinos.

She told them the truth. If she wanted them caught or dead, she would’ve already arranged it. Maybe putting their trust into an employee of a compromised organization wasn’t their wisest choice, but they had both worked with her before, and while they weren’t friends exactly, Bucky seriously doubted she would stab them in the back.

Not because it went unprecedented, but because of what he saw of her when Fury died.

And besides, she earned Steve’s trust too, and so Bucky put their shared gut feeling beyond rationale and hoped he wouldn’t come to regret it later.

Steve hotwired a car from the garage and she climbed to the backseat while Bucky only let Steve drive on account of his arm.

'So how long have you two been together?' she asked as she leaned forward between their seats. 'Is it since before the war?'

Bucky whistled. 'Wow, you are good.'

Captain America being from the forties, that everybody knew. Winter Soldier, however, was believed to be just a contemporary superhero.

'Yes, I noticed you aren’t really a bear,' she said. She _was_ good. 'So, did you—'

'Yes,' Steve said.

She hummed and turned to Bucky. 'Must've been a shock to suddenly have so much of him.'

'It was,' Bucky agreed, aware that she was fishing for information and doing a rather good job of it too, and also not wanting to talk about Azzano. His own body had been too much of a shock at the time to be freaked out about Steve's.

'The engagement's from the past too?' she asked.

Or maybe she wasn't fishing but genuinely curious about them, who could tell.

Bucky and Steve replied at the same time.

'Kinda,' Bucky said.

'No, that was yesterday,' Steve said.

They glared at each other.

'We've _been.engaged.since.the.twenties._ ' Bucky emphasized every word.

'And yet you only gave me a ring yesterday,' Steve waved his fingers, and he probably aimed for a shit-eating grin but it came out rather fond. Bucky groaned and thunked his head back on the headrest.

'Sorry, didn't know it was a hornets' nest for you,' she said, but her grin told a different tale.

~*~*~

The ride to New Jersey took a few hours, even with Steve’s driving, because they were trying to avoid roads that could’ve potentially had any kind of traffic control. The Sun was low when they got to Camp Leigh, and by that time Bucky managed to more or less re-calibrate his arm - at least he got it to obey, but she pinched him at the worst possible nerve-point and the signals to his brain felt all weird and lumpy. Except for the pain, which of course didn't lag.

Romanoff held her phone high up. 'Signature comes from these coordinates,' she said.

'So did I,' Steve added softly.

Bucky  clasped his backpack at the front in case he had to make a run for it whereas Steve, naturally, left his in the car.

Nobody jumped at them.

Steve broke the chain with one bang of his shield and they went in, keeping together and an eye out.

Yeah, Steve may have come from this place but Bucky had as well. He remembered seeing these barracks for the first time and how they became a poor substitute for home for a few months. How he was told he would be great at killing people when his rifling talent earned him a promotion. How he tried to hide his fears and worries underneath a mask of pride, mostly from Steve - especially from Steve.

It was where the horror of the war lapped at him like cold waves on a sandy beach. He realized there'd be no going back. He was so young and naive, and yet his instincts screamed at him that he'd never see home soil again.

Well, not in his normal lifetime anyway.

But it was also where the seeds of the later Captain - or in fact, Captains - America and Winter Soldier were planted, so maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

'This is where we were both trained,' Bucky said as they walked past familiar and yet all-too alien buildings and pathways. The whole place looked to have been out of commission for a considerable time.

'Together?' she arched an eyebrow.

'No. I shipped out just as he enlisted.'

'Ooh, why didn't you enlist together?' she kept her eyes on the phone and so Bucky couldn't even chide her to pay attention to the mission, only himself for bringing this up in the first place. But talking anchored him to the present, so. Quid pro quo indeed.

'I was drafted and he was 4F-d four times before an illegal experiment used him as a lab rat.'

'It wasn't illegal,' Steve protested.

'It sure as hell wasn't legal _or_ ethical, either,' Bucky fired back.

'You know what, Rogers, I think Barnes here is right. You do act like an old married couple.'

Steve glared daggers at the back of her head and Bucky huffed out a laugh.

'You sound like you're speaking from experience,' Steve said, and her smile vanished.

'This is a dead end,' she snapped her phone shut.

But Steve had his eyes firmly at a building, and as his eyes narrowed and Bucky followed his gaze his own mouth formed a soft 'oh'.

'What is it?' she asked.

'Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks,' Steve said as if he was reading the exact quote from a manual - knowing his photographic memory he probably was. He marched towards it.

'This building's in the wrong place,' Bucky finished for him while hot on his heels.

One hit of the shield and they were in. Steve moved down the stairs first, then Bucky with his M1911 held high and ready to shoot, and Romanoff last. Bucky would’ve loved to have his SAW machine gun in his hands instead of on his back, but that would’ve been somewhat problematic to hold one-handed, and he wanted to save using his left for last-case scenarios.

They turned on the lights and a bullpen of the 1940s-50s was revealed with faded colors and a lot of dust everywhere.

'SHIELD?' Bucky asked.

'Maybe where it started,' she said.

They moved cautiously, looking behind shelves and under tables, careful of the shadows, but nothing lurked there save for a few spiders - he almost cracked a joke about them being related to her, but he didn’t have a death wish.

The place seemed to have been abandoned with a finality.

The next room must've been an office for the leaders, equally dusty and empty, but three photographs hanged framed on the wall: Colonel Phillips, Howard Stark and Peggy Carter. Peggy and Phillips wore uniforms with their decorations pinned to their chests, Stark a lazy suit thrown on.

'That's Howard Stark,' Romanoff said, and if Bucky heard her right maybe a bit bewildered. Bucky nodded. The resemblance to Tony was... jarring, especially given how different their personalities were.

Seeing Peggy was even more disconcerting as she was young and strong, just like the last time they saw her in '44, and so different from the Peggy they visited in her care. Romanoff must've seen something dangerous on their faces because she didn't ask about the other two.

They moved around, again, cautiously and slowly, and it was Steve who followed the wind and pushed the shelves aside to reveal their next entrance.

'If you're already working at a secret office, why do you need to hide the elevator?' he asked in a foreboding tone.

Well. Bucky wasn't arguing. He'd been feeling more and more on edge as they went deeper into the place, and the prospect of going _down_ some more didn't cheer him up.

Contrary to the rest of the place the elevator looked much cleaner and shinier, like it wasn't abandoned whenever it was that SHIELD HQ moved.

The same could be said about the... well, Tony would've called it a secret lair, and Bucky himself couldn't come up with anything better either. But it was in fact an old computer room, the type Bucky and Steve never saw in person as they slept through its evolution into a book-sized version, complete with creepy wind and motion-sensor lights. Bucky suppressed a shiver and his arm whirred.

Steve found his eyes and just as always, a simple nod between them did the trick of reminding each other that they were not alone and come what may, they'd face it together.

This time Romanoff took the lead, and Bucky felt a knot uncoiling in his stomach upon her allowance of them watching her six.

'This can't be the data point, this technology's ancient...' and Bucky carefully didn't say that so were they. But then she spotted a brand new part of the machine, then gestured to Steve who carefully plugged the pendrive in, and suddenly creepy wasn't even beginning to cover what Bucky felt.

The room came alive around them. Machines whirred, tape rolls turned, lights blinked, and  in every direction as far as the eye could see everything turned _on_.

Bucky swallowed hard, and Steve had his eyebrows furrowed so much that it looked to be just one thick line. Romanoff initiated the system, a brick-like camera turned on top of what appeared to be the main monitor, and a voice Bucky prayed to never ever have to hear again spoke up.

'Romanova, Natalia Alianovna, born 1984. Rogers, Steven Grant, born 1918. Barnes, James Buchanan, born 1917.'

Bucky was frozen to the spot but his heart raced. No - this wasn't - _how_ -

Romanoff leaned closer to the monitor where, in a green matrix, familiar and hated round glasses framed a rat-like face. Bucky couldn’t even focus at their words because _God_ , even the accent and the rhythm was the same, and he took a step backwards.

Steve, on the other hand, stood taller and broader, as always in the face of danger.

'You know this thing?' Romanoff looked at them, but mostly at Steve who went around the main console to check the back of the device. Bucky had to consciously relax his grip on the handle of his gun before he cut off blood circulation or ruin the gun.

'Arnim Zola. Was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He's been dead for years.'

'First correction: I am Swiss. Second correction: look around you. I have never been more alive,' the voice said, and Bucky wanted to run away, get an aeroplane's worth of kerosene, and burn this fucking place to the ground.

The computer meanwhile proceeded to monologue about how Zola was diagnosed with cancer and they saved his brain on data files. It made Bucky nauseous.

'How did you get here?' Steve demanded.

'With, I am delighted to tell you, careful planning and execution.'

'The Americans recruited scientists from the Axis after the war,' Romanoff said.

'No,' Bucky said, and everybody turned to look at him. 'I made sure you wouldn't be pardoned.'  Steve's questioning look made it hard, but he continued. 'I told Carter what you did. To me.'

'Oh yes, you were one of my best creations. It's a true shame your Captain here interrupted our little experiment, but he never had an appreciation for the finer things in life. And now we're similar in form - tell me, how does it feel to be partially machine?'

_CLANG!_

Bucky jerked his head up to see Steve pull his bare fist back from the broken screen.

'Anyway,' the face said after it appeared on another monitor nonchalantly, 'why do you think it took me twenty years after Director Carter retired to get my plan underway? Without her I'd have rewritten history to my image long ago.'

'And what image would that be?' Romanoff asked.

'Take a guess,' the computer said, and Zola's face morphed into an image that haunted both Steve and Bucky's nightmares: a skull with tentacles around.

'HYDRA died with the Red Skull,' Steve warned, though who, Bucky couldn't say.

'Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.'

'Prove it,' Steve said, though Bucky heard despair more than commanding in his voice now.

'Thanks to your warning I couldn't access SHIELD directly, only through lackeys and henchmen.' It sounded bitter, to Bucky's absolute joy. 'But I bid my time and I rebuilt what I could to serve our agenda. It took me decades, small acts, invisible movements to create the world where my vision would be possible,' and on the screen pixelated images flashed one after another: news reports covering explosions, dead bodies, technological innovations.

'SHIELD still would've stopped you,' Romanoff sounded angry too.

'Accidents happen everywhere.' And the next image was an article about the death of Howard and Maria Stark, and Bucky could close his eyes but not his ears even though he wanted to cover them with his hands and scream. 'None could be traced back to me. I was smarter than the Red Skull, but I admit, less efficient without a proper body of organization. Maybe if I had you, Sergeant, you could've been my agency in the physical world. But as it was, Carter finally retired and the 21st century offered so many things to me - this place, for example, but most importantly, _data_. Now I know more than any human ever could.'

'What do you want to do with that knowledge?' Romanoff asked urgently.

'To form the world to my image, starting with SHIELD, have you not been paying attention?'

'How?' Steve barked.

'My voice found ears willing to listen and hands capable of furthering our cause. When the rest is silenced there will be no challenge against our rule.'

The next picture was again an article, this time about Captain America missing, a nation left defenseless, and Bucky had to fight his urge to punch the screen in exactly like Steve had earlier, but he needed at least one functional arm.

'How will that happen?' Romanoff asked.

'What a fascinating question! With the help of my design, but unfortunately you shall be too dead to hear or witness the whole procedure,' the computer said, and the doors closed before Steve's shield could create a leeway. Romanoff's phone beeped to warn them about a boogey.

Bucky looked around frantically and located the only place they'd have a chance of survival: the water collector in the floor. He pulled the metal cover aside, Romanoff confirmed the missile was fired by SHIELD while she grabbed the pendrive, and Steve jumped in after them with his shield raised protectively over their heads as Zola kept monologuing about how they were "men out of their time" and the building exploded.

~*~*~

Even though Steve held the shield steadily, and Bucky used his metal arm to cover what the shield couldn’t, Romanoff still lost consciousness. They pushed the debris aside and climbed up coughing from the dust and with ears ringing, but there was little time for anything more: searchlights appeared in the distance and were approaching fast. Bucky took the shield and Steve lifted Romanoff up, and they scrambled for the cover of the trees.

They pushed on, using the advantage of the serum and every second before their survival was inevitably confirmed. Every line of Steve's body projected anger, and he took the lead like a bull seeing red. Not that Bucky himself wasn't boiling: he was only disappointed about the missile because it meant that he wouldn't be able to blow the place up himself.

Looks like they couldn't shake off the past as easily as they hoped. Zola followed them here, HYDRA followed them here... or rather, they got here first and now Steve and Bucky were imposing.

Well. Let that fucking be. He'd impose on evil Nazis any day.

He punched a trunk so hard his flesh tore, and Steve sent back an annoyed glance. Whatever. Like he didn't punch the Zola computer too.

He had a hard time believing that they basically achieved _nothing_ by putting the Valkyre to the sea and going for a 70 year long nap. HYDRA even infected SHIELD so much that now there was a manhunt for Captain America. Nick Fury was dead, the Secretary of State had it out for them... and here they were, only the two of them with an unconscious (or pretending,  Bucky couldn't be sure) Black Widow. Any other time this would've meant a considerably solid chance for success, but Bucky was having doubts now.

Especially given how little they knew of what Zola's _actual_ plan was.

These perspectives cooled him effectively and within half an hour felt as numb as his badly abused metal arm.

They stopped after a few miles on Bucky's request. By then his left was nothing but a pulsating, useless ache at his side; he even had to carry his backpack solely on his right shoulder. He unclipped the backpack immediately - they needed food and water, maybe some would even help Romanoff regain consc—

'What the _fuck_ , Steve,' Bucky spat as he pulled a very familiar red white and blue fabric out of his bag.

'I knew you'd carry your pack even if I left mine,' Steve said and he put Romanoff down in a half-sitting position.

' _You_ \- what the fuck did you throw out to make room?!' Bucky tossed the uniform to the side to peer inside and evaluate the damage.

'Nothing that we couldn't replace, only some clothes!'

' _Only. Some. Clothes._ ' Bucky repeated, not even caring how much his left arm protested as he shook the contents of the bag to the side: his own uniform was there all right, so were his weapons and some of the food, but no civilian clothes and much less water than advisable for supersoldiers. 'What the fuck, Steve, I'm serious, what the fuck?!'

Steve's lines looked like they were drawn on in the darkness. 'We needed the uniform and after what Zola said I'm even more glad that I brought it!'

'And you didn't think about bringing your own backpack with you?!' Bucky was on the verge of yelling now; the only thing keeping his voice low was the fear of their tail overhearing. 'Or telling me about it? But oh no, you are the superhero and I'm just the sidekick, so of course you don't have to _ask_ -'

The shock on Steve's face only lasted for a split-second before it morphed into thin-eyed fury.

'Yes, because you know _all_ about telling me everything, right? You told me what happened in Azzano, right? I didn't have to find out by you _not dying_ after your arm was shot off and we put the fucking plane to the arctic-'

Bucky reeled back as if he was hit.

The only thing, the _only fucking thing_ he didn't tell Steve was what happened in Azzano. He had PTSD at the time, not that he had the words for it, but he was scared shitless of tests and discharge and losing sight of Steve again. And Steve, the little fucking hypocrite who literally went and signed up for an illegal science experiment _behind his back_ , on the _night he was shipping out_ , held it over his head _years_ after the fact.

Other times Bucky would've found it funny.

Not right now.

'How dare you,' he growled. 'How dare you bring that up right after it turns out that the sonofabitch that tortured me is still able to pull the strings?!'

Now Steve looked like he was slapped. The fury gave way to misery on his face, then he steeled himself again. 'I wouldn't even know about that if it were for you,' he said, marginally calmer than before. 'Because you didn't tell me _anything_ about it and yet you told Peggy?'

Bucky couldn't believe his ears. This idiot - how is this his life, that this idiot is his everything? He wanted to hit his head - no, _Steve's_ head on a tree. Repeatedly. Until he saw sense.

'We find out that HYDRA's still active and you are _jealous_ of Peggy for what happened 70-something years ago?' he asked incredulously.

'I - what? No!' Steve spluttered. 'I just don't get why you didn't tell _me_!'

'Steve, how many times has Sam told you that pressuring people into talking about their traumas is not good for healing?' Bucky asked. 'I _told_ you already why I kept my mouth shut, okay, we've been through this.'

'Yes, and I accept that, but you told her-'

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the shield at Steve's head. 'I fucking told her because I nearly died on that train, okay, and then I saw how Phillips treated Zola. And I was afraid that he'd get amnesty but I was also afraid of telling Phillips about the camp because what if he didn't believe me? What if he thought me a snitch? What if he ordered more _tests_?' Bucky shivered. 'So I told Carter and she promised she'd make sure Zola wouldn't have the power to do that again.'

‘You still could’ve told me.’

Only years of knowing Steve helped Bucky read the hurt in his voice, but it didn’t help soothe Bucky’s nerves.

‘Haven’t I paid enough for not telling you, already?’ Bucky found his anger again. It burned hot inside his throat, much like bile. ‘With the way you’ve treated me when we came outta the ice? Wasn’t that enough, especially when you yourself repeatedly keep secrets from me?’

‘What? I was never _punishing_ you,’ Steve sounded disgusted with himself, which was the only reason why Bucky didn’t start laughing. ‘I’d _never_! And what secrets-’

‘Maybe not intentionally, but you barely even looked at me when you had to help me out with a hand, while mine was being made!’ Bucky raised said metal hand, then regretted instantly - it hurt like a bitch, only moderately less than the memories. ‘You ran away into fights without looking back!’

Steve looked like he was seeing Bucky for the first time in his life, and then his face fell. ‘Bucky, no, that’s not wh-’

‘And don’t even try with the you’re always so honest line; you can’t lie to save your life, as has just been proven, but you’re great at convincing yourself you’re doing the right thing by not involving me in decisions that affect _both of us_ , all for _my state of mind_ of course, like when you didn’t tell me you were enlisting! Or getting rid of my clothes just now! And what about that business with Fury a couple of weeks back, huh? Shall I go on?’

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it.

Yeah, that’s what Bucky thought so too.

He rubbed his left wrist, which was a stupid thing to do based on how the metal sounded and felt. 'And I didn't even tell Peggy about... him giving me the serum. I just said I overheard his plans on the table about recreating more...' as much as Bucky wanted to yell two minutes earlier he had a hard time raising his voice above a whisper now. 'Not that she didn't put it together, I think. She's smart.'

Steve swallowed and Bucky looked up. 'You were afraid of telling me, weren't you?' he whispered.

'I— I didn't even recognize what happened at first, then I was healing faster and you don't look a gift horse in the mouth. And everything seemed so unreal and I thought I'd lose you on the next mission and the next and the next—'

Steve shook his head and took a few steps until he stood right in front of Bucky. 'No, you told Peggy because you were afraid of telling anybody else. Including me.'

His face crumbled and Bucky had to look away. 'I was afraid that you'd think me a monster,' he whispered, and Steve's arms were around him immediately.

' _No_ , Buck, _never_ ,' Steve promised as Bucky buried his face into his neck and cling to his torn and dusty jacket with all his might.

He would have cried, but his turmoil was wrestling with his relief because Steve was here, and Steve _understood_ , and they were together, they were going to get married, fuck revived Nazi cults and world endings, they were still together after everything. And Bucky finally let go some of the stuff he'd been carrying around for years, from the war and from where they were defrosted, and Steve  _understood_. 

‘I’m sorry, I’m _so sorry_ ,’ Steve kept repeating. ‘I should’ve told you— I shouldn’t have, it’s all - I’m so sorry, Buck—’

‘It’s okay, we’ll— we’ll talk about it later,’ Bucky said when he was able to  speak coherently again. Fuck everything, that the moment they got ready discuss their problems the Nazis returned and wanted to ruin the world or some shit. Unfair. Just. Unfair. ‘Now we got more to worry about. We… we died for nothing, Steve. Zola is back and it was all for nothing—' Another shiver ran through him. Because it was, for nothing, they could've lived their lives normally back then for all it mattered—

'Zola's destroyed,' Steve, still holding on tight, made a vague motion towards where they came from. 'If not, I'll tear whatever's left of him to shreds with my bare hands.'

'But HYDRA'S back.’

'We'll cut off one head, we'll cut off both heads, we'll burn the body and we'll salt the fucking earth, together, and this time neither of us will die,' Steve vowed.

'Okay,' Bucky took some deep breaths while enjoying the proximity, then looked up into blue blue eyes. 'All right.'

~*~*~

Romanoff woke up around dawn. Steve put her down and they gave her some of the leftover water, after which she looked more composed than either of them.

'It seems like I owe you one,' she marveled, and her voice remained hoarse and less guarded than Bucky'd ever heard. 'You saved my life.'

'It's okay,' Steve said.

She also ate a granola bar and they moved on in the dim and foggy obscurity. Steve insisted Bucky carry his shield, in return for which he took on Bucky’s backpack.

'Do you think I would've done the same?' she asked neither of them in particular. 'Be honest.'

Bucky and Steve looked at each other.

'I do now,' Steve said, and Bucky nodded. The Widow wasn't one to forget a debt - or a grudge. 'And I'm always honest.'

Bucky snorted and a smile ghosted her face.

'You're taking this better than I thought you would,' she said with sudden sadness, and Bucky couldn't decide if it was an involuntary slip or a conscious decision to let them see through the cracks. Either way, she apparently hadn’t been awake for their argument.

'Now we know who we're fighting,' Steve's reply was simple. He would fall apart later, Bucky knew, but a clear goal to reach gave him enough power to move on as long as was needed, which, incidentally, was also how Bucky worked.

'Yeah,' she said, and Bucky turned around to face her.

'How are _you_ doing?' he asked.

'I'm the Black Widow,' she grinned the fakest grin in the history of forever, 'I'm fine.'

'No you're not, you're taking this worse than us.'

She evaluated him. Her face was pale under the grime from the rubble and the explosion and dark circles framed her eyes.

'I thought I was coming clean when I decided to work for SHIELD,' she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. 'But guess I… wasn't smart enough to tell the difference.'

'How about telling the truth?' Steve offered kindly, and her eyes snapped to him.

'The truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people, all the time.'

'And neither are you?' Steve had the ability to say the harshest things in the kindest of ways.

She nodded.

'It's hard to trust someone without knowing who they really are,' Steve said.

'Says one masked superhero to two other masked superheroes,' she fired back.

Steve mulled this over for a couple of steps. 'True,' he finally said. 'Which plays into HYDRA's hands. If we don't know who we are we don't know who we can trust, and HYDRA thrives amidst the confusion and suspicion.'

It was her turn to be silent for a while. 'So what's your plan to counter that? Unmask everybody?'

It was creepy, how both she and Bucky interpreted Steve in a similar way.

'Not forcefully, no,' Steve said. 'But we need a team to fight HYDRA and that team cannot be built on lies and omissions. I'd like you on it, if you're willing.'

'Who do you want me to be?' she asked, and she most likely referred to her position in the team, but he replied without hesitation.

'How about a friend?'

 _That_ took her breath away.

'Don't you think you're in the wrong business for that?'

Bucky grinned. Steve'd rather change the business itself to fit his ideas than the other way around.

'No,' Steve said simply. 'Not anymore.'

~*~*~

'You said not to involve civilians and I agree,' Steve said mostly to Bucky when the Sun was climbing uncomfortably high. ‘But how about someone who knows the drill?'

Bucky glanced at Steve. His arm was throbbing rhythmically and they ran out of water when Romanoff woke up. They were, to say the least, in dire need of assistance.

‘You mean Sam? ‘Cause he ain’t a soldier anymore.’

‘That actually inspires more confidence than if he were,’ Romanoff said. ‘Is he reliable?’

‘Yes,’ Steve said empathically. ‘We can regroup and move on. If they find out he can deny knowing who we are.’

Bucky nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, Sam would’ve help them even if he knew that they were superheroes.

And speaking of.

‘What about this?’ he asked and lifted the shield.

One look at Steve’s face told Bucky everything he needed to know.

The smart thing would’ve been to hide it and lie to Sam. Say they got hurt while doing some PPD. But Bucky agreed with Steve: this whole secrecy thing played into HYDRA’s hands. And besides, if they didn’t find out their plan and stop them then no plausible deniability would help Sam.

‘If you think we should keep up the facade…’ Steve trailed off.

Bucky shook his head. God, he was so tired.

Steve led them through the suburbs of DC, through shady alleys and deserted gardens, and then they knocked on Sam's back door. Bucky wished he had a camera for Sam's face when took in Steve with Bucky’s backpack, Bucky with Captain America's shield and nursing his left arm, and a grimy ginger lady on his porch, all of them in civvies and looking like they've had a building exploded on them.

Sam gaped at the shield first and foremost, just as expected - but he opened the door wider to let them in, also just as expected.

Romanoff, wrung out as she was, set to combing the apartment for bugs. Bucky awkwardly put the shield by a cupboard in the kitchen and Steve took the backpack off with a relieved sigh.

'So, I guess you're Captain America, huh,' Sam said and poured each of them a glass of orange juice.

‘It’s mostly him, but I help in too,’ Bucky nodded at Steve who was rubbing the back of his neck in a ‘what can you do’ way.

Sam took his time to just look at them, his eye going from Steve to Bucky and back, calculating and gears turning, and Bucky contemplated snapping in front of his eyes. He just raised his eyebrows, instead, until Sam realized he should say something. ‘Okay, okay; somehow I'm not even surprised.'

'I'm the Winter Soldier, too, sometimes,' Bucky offered in the name of full honesty.

'Still not surprised. Everything fits.' Sam had a hard time taking his eyes off the shield, then visibly shook himself. 'So is everything in the Smithsonian true?'

'...I wouldn't go that far,' Steve said, which was a huge understatement. The Smithsonian took wild guesses about things they couldn't find facts on and erased what they didn't like. Bucky didn't appear by name at all, for instance, not that he complained much. Anonymity was a superhero's best friend - or at least it used to be.

‘As you can see I’m not a bear,’ Bucky said.

‘Well, depends on your manners, white boy. But you _are_ from the 1910s, right?'

'The very late 1910s, yeah.'

'Man, I knew it,' Sam grinned.

'No you didn't,' Bucky argued.

'Well, _no_ , but c'mon. Look at you two.' At their questioning looks Sam explained. ‘Your vague bafflement at anything modern, that wistful look you both get when you look at price tags - damn, the first time I took you to an arts ‘n’ crafts store?’

Yeah, _okay._ Maybe Sam had a point.

'I'm good with modern pop culture,' Steve protested.

'Yes, because you took it as a dare to widen your knowledge out of spite,' Bucky sad, and Sam laughed.

'My point exactly. Wait, wait - when you say you were _childhood sweethearts_ that means in the _1920s_?'

Bucky rolled his eyes. 'Shut up, Wilson.'

'Whoa, man. And here I was being proud of my longest relationship of four years.'

'People back in my day weren't used to just throwing things out instead of fixing them,' Steve said with an amazingly straight face. 'But kids these days...'

Sam groaned. 'Okay, okay. No glorifying the good old days, got it. Anyway, who's she?' he gestured towards Romanoff who busied herself in the living room.

'A friend?' Steve offered, but Romanoff overheard them and came in.

'I can be that,' she agreed, and considered Sam. 'I'm Natasha Romanoff, also known as the Black Widow.'

Sam was outright unimpressed by learning Bucky and Steve were Caps compared to how taken aback he was by Nat. 'Whoa!' he exclaimed and if he still had his glass in his hand he would've spilled the juice all over himself, Bucky could just tell. 'That's _so cool!_ '

A real smile appeared on her lips. 'Thank you.’

Sam leaned back to the counter and asked all three of them in general.

'So. Wanna talk about why you're the most wanted in the country right now?'

'Can we use the shower first?' Steve asked.

'Sure, why not, it's not every day Captain America's in my shower. I'd give you clean clothes too, but I sadly don't think they would fit. But what a story that would be to tell...'

'We'll make do with what we have, thanks, Sam,’ Steve said, and Bucky stood up.

'Can we use your washer too, since we don’t have a clean set,' he said, and Steve had the decency to look sorry.

' _I_ might borrow yours,' Romanoff interjected with blatant glaze thrown at Sam who, to Bucky's absolute _joy_ , promptly forgot how the English language worked.

They let her take the first go at the shower, and in the meantime put everything in the washer and then in the dryer.

Two hours later they found themselves fresher, if not completely refreshed, and wearing clean clothes, although Bucky couldn't take a proper shower because of his arm. It was normally waterproof, but also normally it didn't hurt like a bitch and didn’t fire sparks when he turned it a certain angle, so. No worth risking getting electrocuted.

Steve held his wrist between gentle palms in the bathroom after he helped Bucky dress, and Bucky nuzzled his nose.

'I'm so sorry,' Steve whispered. 'I still think we could call-'

'No, Stevie. And it's not your fault.'

'I'm sorry anyway, and I'm also sorry because you had to see Zola again.'

Bucky's hand twitched. 'Yeah. So am I.'

'And I'm sorry for being an ass,' Steve finished.

'You were a total idiot,' Bucky laced his right hand through Steve's. 'I only ever had eyes for you, you complete dope.'

'You dated plenty,' Steve murmured, not looking at him, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, I wanted to avoid rumours and us ending up in prison or dead behind a barn. Sue me.'

'I know, I know, I just—' Steve sighed. 'I always thought you'd find a nice girl and settle.'

Bucky sometimes forgot that Steve's insecurities were on par with his own.

'I don't want any girl or boy or whatever, I want you. And I have you. And I'm sorry too, for not telling you about... the serum.'

'No, you're right, Sam'd hit me on the head for breaking down people's walls.'

'You are quite good at that,' Bucky agreed.

‘I never saw how much you were hurting,’ Steve said, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. ‘By you having to pretend, and by me… by me going out there alone.’

Bucky couldn’t say anything to that, but he squeezed Steve’s hand.

‘I was such an idiot. God, I can’t believe you’re willing to marry me,’ Steve went on while his tone went off, almost into a question.

Bucky rolled his eyes again. ‘Yes, I’m still willing to marry you. I knew who you were when we got engaged. Hell, I knew who you were when I first kissed you, remember, when you were shouting something about neighborhood kids terrorizing Mrs. Johnson’s dog or something.’

Steve laid his forehead to Bucky’s right shoulder and chuckled. ‘And I repay all your love and care by making decisions alone instead of involving you. You were right, I’m so full of myself all the time. I don’t even have an excuse.’

Bucky pulled him even closer, as much as the pain in his left allowed. ‘To be fair, you usually do know better. That’s why I follow your judgement, that’s why Fury left you this shitstorm. Just maybe try to at least _tell me_ what the hell is going on, if it involves me.’

Steve looked up and his eyes were red.

‘I love you,’ Bucky said, and Steve kissed him like his life depended on it.  

Then Steve took a deep breath and began talking. ‘During a missions I noticed that Fury had a personal quest. I questioned him and he showed me this… new weapon system for the Helicarriers. It was… intimidating. Range and power I’ve never seen before. But it looked like SHIELD wanted to hold a gun to every person’s head to make them act nicely. I told him what I thought of that and it never came up again.’

‘Shit.’ Well, that could have something to do with Fury’s demise either way.

‘Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just…’

Bucky waited in vain. He debated being the bigger person and not throwing the ball back at Steve, but he was not nearly noble enough for that. ‘Why didn’t you?’

‘You were already mad at SHIELD,’ Steve said, lines around his eyes wrinkling. ‘I didn’t— I was afraid you’d straight up _leave_.’

Well... ‘Would you have followed me?’

‘How is that a question?’ Steve asked back, confident again for the first time since Zola’s lair. ‘Anywhere.’

Bucky pulled him in for another kiss.

'Hey, you've been in there for ages! No frolicking in my bathroom!' Sam shouted at the other side of the closed door.

Steve smiled and upon seeing that, so did Bucky.

~*~*~

Romanoff was indeed wearing Sam's hoodie.

'I made breakfast, if you eat that kinda thing?' Sam gestured towards _heaps_ of bacon and eggs and _coffee,_ and Bucky sometimes really liked Sam.

'You know how much we eat, and that's the moderate version,' Bucky rolled his eyes.

'He means thank you,' Steve said.

They sat down to eat and after the first shock it didn't take long before Sam's eyes widened in surprise.

'You got engaged?!' He looked at Steve's ring too. 'Man, you didn't even tell me!'

'We didn't exactly have time-' Steve started, but Sam interrupted.

'I mean, the Cap non-disclosure I get, but seriously, I'm _hurt_. Does Tony know?'

'No, he doesn't. It happened literally five hours before the director of SHIELD showed up at our doorstep, proceeded to die and leave us to face an national manhunt,' Bucky interjected. 'And you're _not_ freaked out about the Cap thing but you are about our _engagement_? You need to check your priorities.'

'I'm not freaked out,' Sam said indignantly, 'I'd be happy for you if I'd known about it!' But he did look happy about at least Tony not knowing, so.

'Well now you know about it,' Bucky grumbled. Seriously, how was their engagement more important than what was going on with SHIELD?

'Sam, this is really not the time,' Steve agreed with Bucky's thoughts.

'All right,' Sam allowed, but then his eyes narrowed. 'But don't think this is over. Now, tell me about this manhunt.'

They did. Well, what little they knew.

'So in a nutshell, some of SHIELD is corrupted by HYDRA, Pierce is heavily involved as he tried scapegoating you _and_ he has the authority to order a missile launch, and they have an evil plan which is connected to that pendrive, and you have to stop it.'

'Basically,' Bucky said. ‘Can I lit a smoke in here.’

‘No.’

Bucky sighed.

'Our civilian identities are still untouched,' Romanoff said, browsing from Sam's laptop. 'Fury encrypted yours really well and it's likely that they don't know I'm with you. Yet.'

'That's good, that means our friends won't get harassed,' Steve said.

'Yet,' Romanoff repeated.

'And what's with your arm?' Sam asked Bucky.

'It's malfunctioning.'

‘Clearly, but how?’

‘Can you help?’ Steve asked before Bucky had the chance to tell Sam off - he then immediately looked guilty. ‘Sorry,’ he told Bucky and hung his head, and Bucky leaned into him anyway.

‘Maybe. Let me take a look,' and somewhat to Bucky's surprise Sam brought out a fine tool kit and a magnifying lamp and had Bucky fold his sleeve up.

Steve's shock mirrored Bucky's own.

'Since when—'

'Hey, you got your history, I got mine.’ Then, after a beat of dramatic pause he added, ‘I was an engineering student at CCAF.'

‘That was anticlimactic,’ Romanoff said, still browsing the net.

'Does it hurt too?' Sam asked.

'Yeah,' Bucky replied. ‘If I could take it off I could do the maintenance but it hurts in a way that… I think the nerves may be damaged as well.’

See, Bucky had transhumeral amputation at the hands of that HYDRA gun. The socket of his prosthetic, covering what was left of the humerus - basically his upper arm and shoulder - was neurologically connected to his brain, enabling feelings in his left arm. Something he wouldn’t have minded disabling now. The rest of the prosthetic could be detached, meaning his elbow and everything below that - but only after disabling said neuron connections in the arm, otherwise he’d just relieve the loss of his limb again.

'I don't think I can do much about that, sorry,' and Sam really looked sorry. 'Neuro-robotics are beyond me. But I can do maintenance where you can’t reach it?’

Sam _was_ the designated 'tech friend' between them especially when Tony wasn't available, and he popped off the plates one by one expertly following Bucky’s navigation. It hurt like hell and Bucky held onto reality with his might as Sam looked under the plates, pulled wires and even soldered some things together. Steve hovered anxiously and in the end Bucky gripped his hand to prevent breaking the table, but it seemed to be working - at least the arm didn’t sparkle and grind that much anymore.

Bucky rotated it as much as he could in every direction and the plates shifted, and it really was quieter and maybe even less painful than before.

'Thank you. I had no idea you could do that.'

'Hey, it’s good tech. Speaking of, Tony called me about a hundred times since yesterday.'

'Us too,' Bucky said. 'He must've invented something crazy and wants to show off.'

'He should really take a look at it,' Sam said.

Bucky sighed. 'No. We don't endanger civilians. Besides, if the nerves don’t heal by themselves we’ll need a neurosurgeon, not just a mechanic.'

'He could help with the pendrive, too.'

This time Steve answered. 'As much as I want that too, the last time we activated that pendrive SHIELD fired a missile at us.'

'... Maybe don't activate it here.'

'We won't. Still, this is our only lead, and we don't know _anything_ about it,' Steve said. 'Fury thrust it into my hand and died. Zola made same vague hints.'

'I feel like we're in a bad action movie or something,' Bucky added.

Romanoff leaned forward. 'We know where that came from,' she said, and fixed Steve with a gaze. 'Remember the _Lemurian Star_?'

'The ship with the pirates?' Bucky asked.

'You're not supposed to know about that,' Romanoff said. 'I'm impressed.’

‘Wait, is that the mission when you realized Fury was shady and—’

‘Yeah,’ Steve answered Bucky’s question. ‘And then, when I confronted him, he showed me SHIELD’s special weapon system for the Helicarriers.’

‘That doesn’t sound encouraging,’ Sam said.

‘It really isn’t, but it is definitely connected,’ Romanoff said, with a voice that conveyed she just gave her brownie points for knowing this much about confidential superhero business.

‘Still doesn't take us closer, though.'

'No, but we know that someone was also there on SHIELD's behalf,' Steve said.

'Sitwell,' Bucky and Romanoff said at the same time.

Steve nodded. 'So how do three fugitives kidnap a high-level SHIELD employee?'

'You don't,' Sam said, and he tossed a file onto the table.

An involuntary whoa left Bucky's mouth and Sam was never going to let that down.

Sam _was_ pararescue, they knew that. What they didn't know was what else he was, until Sam handed the blueprints over, saying that's what they used instead of choppers.

'Wait,' Romanoff looked between them, 'how did you meet?'

'...at my morning run?' Steve asked.

She looked very, very close to facepalming. 'I... don't even know what to say. Congratulations on your superhero coming out, anyway. Do you have other useful superfriends as well?'

‘All our friends are super,’ Bucky said, but she looked really unimpressed, so he went on. ‘No super _heroes_ , that we know of, at least.’

‘Nobody we can get in touch with,’ Steve amended. Right; Bucky forgot about Wolverine for a moment.

'Shame, we could use some help. This looks promising though,' she gestured at the file and Sam preened.

'I can't ask you to do this,' Steve said, once again, what Bucky was just thinking. 'You got out for a good reason.'

The image of Riley stared back at them from the table ominously.

'Dude, Captains America need my help. There's no better reason to get back in.'

~*~*~

Bucky opted out of getting Sam’s wings on the basis of his arm needing rest and the team being more than capable of doing the job without him. It didn’t surprise him that Sam kept meticulous care of where the wings were kept or that Romanoff shrugged at three-inch steel doors and 24/7 guards like it was no big deal, but he was moderately astonished at Steve proclaiming his wish to stay with Bucky.

‘Why the hell would you not go with them?’

‘You need me more than they do,’ Steve said simply.

Yeah. Astonished wasn’t even beginning to cover it. ‘Steve, this isn’t like when we came outta the ice. You can go with them.’

‘Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think because I wanna stay with you,’ Steve said, and no matter what, he remained stubborn as a mule and also with Bucky. It… warmed Bucky, when he peeled back the layers of guilt about holding Steve back.

They partook in the planning, but the actual action would be up for Sam and Romanoff while Steve tracked public opinion about Cap, and Bucky went through three packs a day and wished for mutts to take on walks. SHIELD still hadn't figured their identities out, or at the least they were mum about it, and Bucky agreed with Romanoff on how much easier the action would be without personalized wanted posters everywhere. However, in the meantime public opinion turned hesitantly against Captain America. The details of Fury’s death weren’t public, nor were the accusations against Winter Soldier or Cap, but just being connected to the death of the Director of Shield was enough to raise voices that demanded he be stripped of rank. Even an anti-Cap extremist group resurfaced and started destroying merchandise and harassing those supportive of Cap.

Steve took it badly. Hell, Bucky took it badly too, but he was slightly - just slightly - more numb to social injustice than his stupid lovely partner, whose hands balled into angry fists with whitened knuckles whenever they saw something of the sort happening. Bucky couldn’t even help him with all that bottled up restless energy. His own arm was doing somewhat better after a day of resting, but jogging or workout were still out of the question. It was tolerable when he was at rest and his mind occupied itself with other things, but jarring it sent hot flares up his brain, which he could and would have to ignore in an attack. The nerves seemed to still be on fire where they connected with the socket, and Bucky hoped to hell and back that they would recover by themselves - the pain was a good sign, he told himself over and over again, it meant what remained of his arm was still alive. But at least he could move it now without that horrible grinding noise or sparks flying everywhere.

Bucky’s left made cuddling painful and problematic, but Steve needed to hold honto Bucky’s right arm like his life depended on it. They both woke up sweating from nightmares multiple times that night, and the lack of dogs with the somewhat foreign walls around them did not help.

Bucky hated Zola with a renewed passion he hadn’t known he possessed.

~*~*~

Then Sam and Romanoff got the wings, Bucky pointed a laser to Sitwell's chest and Sam directed him to Romanoff and Steve.

Sitwell, quite unsurprisingly, started spilling the beans fluently once Romanoff kicked him off of the top floor and Sam brought him up again. Those wings - those wings. Yeah. Bucky was definitely impressed despite his best efforts because those wings were something. He himself had never been fond of the sky but he appreciated efficiency and artistry and _those wings_ represented both, plus the sheer technological advancement was mindblowing. It also explained some of Sam's knack for tech - he kinda needed to be able to repair everything himself out in the field.

Which reminded Bucky to be more familiar with his own arm in the future.

'Zola wrote an algorithm,' Sitwell coughed, still on his knees. Steve took one step closer and Sitwell continued instantly - funny how it was Bucky that had the giant shotgun in his right hand, Romanoff was the one that kicked him in the ribs and Sam that got him back with the wings, and it still was the stars and stripes Sitwell was afraid of the most. Maybe he wasn't so stupid as he looked after all. 'It's a program for choosing targets for Project Insight.'

'The defense project? For the Helicarriers?' Steve asked.

Sitwell laughed. 'That's not a defence mechanism if the algorithm aims the guns!'

Oh, right. Fury’s little project would end up biting Steve and Bucky in the ass, _who would have thought._

'Who are the targets?'

The list seemed to be endless, containing both names Bucky could place - defense ministers, superheroes - and ones he couldn't. He could take an educated guess, though.

'...anyone who's a threat to HYDRA - now, or in the future.'

_Wait, what?!_

'In the future? How could it know?'

'How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book and Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Even without the SHIELD database of superhero identities it can conclude based on bank records, medical histories, voting patterns,  emails, phone calls, your damned SAT scores! Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future, and you don't even need to be able to look underneath the mask for that.'

'Then what?' Steve asked, although it was only formality at this point, and Sitwell - upon a bit more nudging - confirmed their fears. Then HYDRA would cross people off the list-

'-a few million at time.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, some things:
> 
>  I don't have a prosthetic nor am I an amputee; I tried researching as much as possible but frankly, Bucky's prosthetic is just not scientifically possible, so I had to bs my way through his issues with the arm. Suspension of disbelief required, I guess. Also if  _you_ have a prosthetic and are willing to offer some insight, that would always be welcome :) 
> 
> The line about burning the body and salting the Earth is from [this amazing piece of fanart](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/145047427730/im-sick-and-cant-sleep-have-some-bitter-drawings) and it's everything, check it out! 
> 
> Honestly, working the canon lines into the story is the hardest because enough info needs to come across but I can't just repeat everything because that'd be boring, so the GREATEST of thanks to [menatiera](http://www.menatiera.tumblr.com) for her help - I'm not saying this nearly enough, but without her this fic would never have even began. The chapter summary is from her as well!!!
> 
>  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the characters ask the questions that the writer also frequently asks, including "what", "how did we get here" and "whyyyy".

So... the Secretary of State was HYDRA and they planned on shooting all of their enemies at once through the SHIELD helicarriers that were supposed to _protect_ the population.

Not a bright future, if you asked Bucky. Or Romanoff, or Sam, or Steve, judging by their faces, because who do you turn to when you don't know whom to trust and one of the most powerful officials in the world is out to kill you?

They stole another car to thr0w their trail off and crammed inside.

'First priority is stopping the helicarriers,' Steve said.

'We're low on time,' Romanoff warned.

'We can use him to get inside before the launch,' Steve said, nodding back at Sitwell, but Sitwell's indignant protests were lost in the rubble of their front tire being shot out, the car swerving sideways and colliding with the divider on the Roosevelt Bridge.

Statistics showed that stopping at a highway for any reason was incredibly dangerous as people stared instead of keeping their eyes on the road, causing more and more collisions and often the death of those pulling to the side in the first place too.

Well, they sure added to those statistics, because Bucky hardly regained his bearings when another car _jammed_ into theirs, pushing it forward and making it spin around its axis some dozen feet in a mix of glass shards and smoke _everywhere_. The dust and the heat from the air bags would've been bad enough before the added collision, plus of course all the lights on the dashboard blinking and warning sounds beeping, but it became unbearable inside. Bucky put his left arm through the glass, forgetting that it still wasn't in peak condition, then took the whole back door off as he clambered out. Steve was already out on the other side, using his shield to make sure Sam could climb out from behind the wheel, and Bucky turned back to Sitwell when another shot rang and a bullet went straight through Sitwell's brain.

'Shit!'

Bucky used the loose door to shield himself from bullets, and backed to the side of the car where Steve, Sam and Romanoff already crouched.

'Captain America, Winter Soldier, Black Widow, Falcon,' said a voice from a speaker, 'you are under arrest for killing two top-level SHIELD employees. Throw your weapons and come out with your hands over your head. Last warning.'

They did not move. Bucky tried his best to shake the pain off of his left arm and Sam was muttering something about ‘shouldn’t have worn the suits’ - yeah, _too late for that_ , though Bucky agreed, and then his ears, still ringing from the experience, registered something he was very, very familiar with. 'Run!' he yelled just as a fucking _grenade launcher_ was fired at the wreckage.

Steve was thrown from the bridge as the car blew up, and Bucky's heart stopped for a minute before he consciously calmed himself - Steve was superhuman, he could and would survive bigger falls too. Romanoff went flying off as well, but knowing her she probably was much better prepared than Steve. Sam had his wings but didn't attempt to fly, but besides Steve he was the least weaponized of the group, and he ended up on the other lane of the highway, too far for Bucky to give him something to fight with. As Bucky could rely on his left arm less and less, he himself pulled out a knife and threw it into a black-clad agent who was about to shoot him, then he used his M1911 to take three more out.

Within two minutes Sam had his own gun and he and Bucky were pushing back the assailant from two sides, making it harder for them to keep Steve and Romanoff down below under constant fire.

Another minival pulled out and people filing out opened fire _immediately_. Sam jumped over the ledge and opened his wings in the cover of the bridge, and Bucky threw himself into air as well and landed swiftly on his feet on top of an empty car.

They ran zigzagging between the emptied cars - probably for the first time in the history of forever it came in handy that Americans were so used to shootings that people ran for cover instead of standing paralyzed at the sidewalk or worse, record everything for instagram right in the line of fire.

Bucky was searching frantically for a familiar red and blue uniform, and he spotted Steve aiming his shield in a way that had the bullets ping back and hit the shooter nicely, but he threw another of his knives into one that sneaked behind Steve just in case regardless.

Looks like SHIELD - or HYDRA - had enough of them getting away because they went for the throat, what with the heavy artillery they lined up with absolutely no care for civilian casualties. The problem with that, of course, was that Team Cap _did_ care about civilian casualties, giving heavy advantage to the enemy.

Still with all that, the four of them weren't as overpowered as outnumbered - they were faster, more agile, and smarter. Sam couldn't fly too much because his wings would've been too easy targets and not grenade-launcher resistant (seriously, Bucky _loved_ heavy weaponry but a _grenade launcher_. in _DC_. what were they thinking?!) and Steve for once didn't throw the shield as much as he punched people with it from up close, but Bucky's and Romanoff's arsenal made up for long-range weapons.

He had no idea where she stored her weaponry, but he had a few secrets as well and of his two tear-gas bombs took care of at least six agents.

 'We gotta disappear!' Steve shouted at him from two cars down.

Except they were quite notable in full superhero outfit and choppers were hovering above, and most likely every CCTV device in the are was focusing on their every move.

And to make matters worse, Bucky could see a very familiar pattern on the chest of the leader of their attackers - Crossbones. Crossbones, who wasn't the smartest of the lot, but he was tactically sophisticated and had fought with both Caps and the Winter Soldier multiple times - he could make their escape inhumanely hard.

Then Sam flew _right into_ an attacker, grabbed his grenade launcher, and threw it to Bucky. Bucky saw this for the chance it was and fired at the road right ahead of the approaching team lead by Crossbones, and a smoking crater the size of a bus appeared. Then he tossed the launcher to Romanoff who also aimed and fired at God knew what, and he tore open the hatch door that lead into the sewers. Steve somehow set a nearby car on fire, and the four of them disappeared into the dark and stinky hole right as the car blew up and made follow-up harder.

They kept walking at the fastest pace Sam could take. Dirty water soaked their shoes and made a squeaky sound with every step, so covert was out of the question. They walked and walked and walked, taking seemingly random turns every now and again, but Romanoff seemed to know what she was doing. Well, maybe Bucky should start calling her Natasha, given how steadily she had their backs.

Bucky thanked his supervision and his superhearing because at least he didn't fall on his face when encountering random rocks and shit. (He wasn’t grateful for the supersmelling, though.) His suspicions about the Widow not being entirely human got stronger with each step, though she might as well have just been extremely well trained.

‘We really shouldn’t have worn our outfits,’ Sam said. ‘What if they can find us again?’

‘That’s why you and me sat at the front,’ Natasha said. ‘And there’s no cameras here.’

Now that the rush from the attack faded, Bucky’s left felt like it was on fire while being rhythmically stabbed by needles, also on fire. He clenched his teeth and held his left as motionless as possible.

'My cover is not as secret as yours,' Sam said. 'They must be connecting the dots.'

'We can't go home,' Steve nodded. 'But the helicarriers will launch soon. We need-'

'Shh,' Natasha said, and they stopped - noise was coming from ahead.

Then a bullet rang through the dark and she fell with a grunt.

Steve immediately covered her, just like he had with Fury, and Sam and Bucky opened fire.

Their enemy probably hid behind a corner because a splash signaled something metallic being thrown at the wall, then falling to the wet ground. Bucky stopped firing and pushed Sam’s gun up, too, so that neither of them would hit Steve who jumped to cover the grenade with the shield.

Between the echoes of the explosion, the typical sounds of someone radioing in a location were heard. Bucky swore and made a move towards the dark corner ahead when another shot clanged and the radio was cut short.

'Don't shoot me!' said a voice, and a figure appeared at the end of the tunnel, clad in the typical STRIKE uniform, then she took off her helmet and revealed a very familiar face. 'I've been looking for you for _hours_.'

'Agent Hill?' Steve rose to his feet and his eyebrows in tandem with how Bucky lowered his gun.

She gave a mildly-surprised glance to Sam, then nodded. ‘Follow me.'

Steve evaluated her for a moment and whatever he found was satisfactory. He nodded.

They stepped over the HYDRA goon Hill just shot dead and cleared the scene fast. Natasha had to be supported by Steve: the bullet didn’t hit an artery but she was losing blood at a pace that would prove deadly without countermeasures. Bucky had to time his breaths to his steps to help him focus on something other than his arm flaring up.

~*~*~

The Sun was nearly going down by the time they reached the secret bunker under a dam that Hill was leading them to. Bucky - Bucky had so many questions, needed to sleep for probably a week and also clean clothes, preferably after a meeting with a neurosurgeon, but mostly he needed to hug Steve. By the looks of it Steve hadn't been doing much better, even if his authority face fooled millions.

But of course that wasn't meant to be just yet. Hill pushed aside some plastic curtains and a very alive Nick Fury _waved at them from a hospital bed_. With his little finger, the only non-bandaged part of his body, but still.

_The fuck_ , Bucky's brain said.

'About damn time,' Nick Fury said.

Bucky felt like when he was watching one of those vlog-diary things on YouTube from his favourite chefs: uploaded maybe once in a week, so the vlogger had to recount everything that happened during that time in order to bring the viewers up to date. Except it kept happening with Bucky's own life.

So it turned out that Fury suffered a medical book's worth of injuries while pretending to die from the attack on his life. Seriously. When had Bucky's life turn into a second-rate conspiracy theory movie?

Natasha’s wound had priority as the rest were only bruised and battered. Someone noticed Bucky’s arm, but not much could be improved, not even for Sam, without the proper tools and qualifications, so Bucky just shook his head and remained by Steve’s side. The most they could do was bandaging the loose wires and sharp edges so that he wouldn't hurt himself even more, not that he wasn't aching all over. Steve gave Bucky a questioning look and to Bucky's nod he stepped to his side, sneaked his arm around his waist and pulled Bucky close.

To hell with everything.

‘I could use a drag,’ Bucky sighed, and to his absolute bafflement, Steve pulled a pack out from one of his inner pockets.

‘Just in case,’ Steve said.

The three of them relocated to a separate room with less pseudo-actively dying - Natasha remained with Fury, probably to chew the bastard a new one by the looks of it. He had it coming, if you asked Bucky.

Steve lit the first cigarette for Bucky.

‘I love you,’ Bucky said after the first taste. Steve kissed his temple.

‘Oh, I just realized,’ Sam marveled. ‘You’re immune to cancer, right?’

‘The docs believe so,’ Bucky said without caring much either way - by the time the world realized smoking was dangerous he was way too attached to stop, especially in the mood he was when they were thawed out.

Steve pulled off his helmet and rubbed his face.

'Still don't regret following Cap?' he asked both of them.

Sam pulled off his goggles, and Bucky his mask as well. They shared one of their very few looks of understanding. 'No,' they said in unison.

The next moment Iron Man burst through the door.

Steve jumped to his feet and put himself between Bucky and the newcomer, just in case - and then the speakers said in an impersonal but very concerned tone, 'Are you alright?! I've been so worried!'

'Wha-'

And then the _whole suit opened up_ at the front and _Tony fucking Stark_ stepped out.

Bucky's brain short-cicruited and Steve could only gape too.

'Man,' Sam said empathically.

'I've called you like a dozen times when I saw it on the news!' Tony continued, undeterred, and patted Steve's arm down as if to make sure he was okay, his mouth going a mile a minute. 'You just shaved a _decade_ off of my life! Now I get why Pepper is so worried every time I put on the suit, it's horrible to watch without being able to help - holy fuck, what happened to you?!'

Tony spotted Bucky’s injuries and was in front of him in one long jump, already putting glasses on and gently nudging Bucky's very unresponsive but very painful left arm. Bucky hissed involuntarily.

'I was stabbed,' Bucky said to gain back some resemblance of normalcy. What even?!

'With what? SHIELD's not supposed to have anything to damage your arm this seriously!'

'Like, a shocking knife, I don't know—'

'Oh, those _fuckers_ , that— yeah, that could work, but I didn't make that for this!' Tony hurried back to his suit and Bucky looked at Steve, lost.

'You... you're Iron Man?' Steve asked the obvious, but it was a start. Tony pulled out a tool kit from God knows where in the suit and then looked around frantically. Bucky soon found out the reason why: Tony guided him to a random box and had him sit down while he himself kneeled in front of Bucky and started poking his arm.

'Well, _duh_ ,' Sam said from the sideline.

'But you... knew about us?' Steve went on after sending a nasty look in Sam's way, but that may have only been Bucky's imagination - pain flared up in his brain again as Tony started opening the panels.

'Of course,' Tony said. 'I'm an actual genius, and besides, you weren't exactly subtle.'

'We were!' Steve protested. Bucky hissed and Steve stepped closer again so that Bucky could lean into his touch.

'Hold on, Buckbeak, I'll fix it,' Tony smiled at him, and Bucky relaxed a fraction.‘Tell me what you feel.’

‘Pain, like, hot needles all the way down to my fingers,’ Bucky said obediently. Steve massaged his right shoulder. ‘Gets worse when I move it.’

‘That’s good, not the worse, obviously, but that you can move it and how you can still feel, but the nerves are definitely damaged and, hold on—’ Tony poked inside some more. ‘Yeah, I don’t think it’s the sensors. But the arm itself is hurting you now, I could take it off, except I’m not sure it would go on again without extra help from a neuroscientist. It could further the damage.’

It was good, Tony nudging his arm and Steve supporting him; familiar, homely amongst the weirder than weird that their life turned out to be, even despite the pain.

‘No. I’ll need it on for what’s coming.’

‘Buck—’

‘No, it’s not unbearable and I can use it.’

‘I can help with the pain, I think,’ and Tony went back to his suit for some other equipment. ‘And to answer your previous questions, no, you weren't subtle. It took me to figure it out like, five minutes! You are too polite and too flabbergasted by everything around you,' he looked at the both of them, ' _and_ you named my huskies after _Frankeinstein_ and _I, robot!_ '

Bucky and Steve were silent for a few long seconds while Sam snorted in the background.

'Not _I, robot_ ,' Bucky grumbled. 'That's way overrated.'

'Your huskies?' Steve asked, bewildered.

' _Yes_ ,' Tony emphasized. 'You were so lost and so out of place, the both of you, and I think it was Bucky that mentioned this mutt that lived with you for a while "back when we were young", and I got Coulson to give you the puppies!'

Bucky gaped. Tony loosened some screws, tightened some others, both up on Bucky’s sleeve socket and down on the prostethic arm. The throbbing continued, now behind Bucky’s eyelids as well, but that may have just been these last… who knows how many hours. In general.

'They were supposed to be service dogs, but had too much personality and were washed out but I still thought they'd be therapeutic, especially for how out of depth you were,' Tony glanced up at Bucky.

'Well, thank you,' Bucky said sincerely, because he, probably like Steve, couldn't think of anything else that could be said in this situation. Steve held into Bucky’s right shoulder with an unexpectedly firm grip.

'You're welcome. I also wanted a breed that liked the cold, because of obvious reasons.'

Sam was howling with laughter, at this point.

'How are you not surprised?' Steve glared at him.

'Man, I'm _beyond_ surprised. But honestly? Knowing Tony's tech and Iron Man tech separately, it fits. Who else could build a suit like that?'

'Thank you,' Tony's reply was heartfelt. ‘How does it feel now?’

‘Still shocking,’ Bucky said on autopilot, then realized what Tony meant. ‘Oh, better, I think?’ he moved his fingers and indeed, the wave of pain felt less like a tsunami, more like a stormy swell.

‘Good; I relieved the pressure, but that also means your dexterity won’t be as fine. Be careful how hard you grip, the feedback will be off, and maybe try to use your right for a while now, until we figure this mess out here and get you to a _medical_ doctor because my seven PHDs aren’t as helpful as one may have thought.’

Bucky rotated his arm and the plates shifted and recalibrated. He could breathe normally throughout. ‘Thank you, Tony.’

‘As I’ve said, you’re welcome,’ Tony wiped his hands and packed his tools back into the suit.

Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the familiar yet so alien red and gold. 'But if you knew us, why not _tell_ us?'

'I wanted to tell you on your wedding, this was supposed to be my wedding gift, but HYDRA fucked it up for me. But I didn't tell you until now because I do have feelings, contrary to popular belief, and I know not to drag people out of the closet one way or another. Then I thought, hey, this could be my present! Well, one of them anyway, so you wouldn't have to uphold the lies and the omissions because they were clearly grating on your nerves, and also then we could complain together about SHIELD and stuff!'

That... that actually was very thoughtful of Tony, not that Bucky was surprised, but from Iron Man...

A new kind of headache was forming more and more clearly behind his eyes.

'Not that it really matter since you're never biting the bullet anyway...' Tony went on and Sam snorted.

'Oh, they're biting all right,' he grinned, and Tony's head jerked up and he span around to glare at Steve's hand.

Steve waved at him awkwardly and the ring glinted on his finger. 'Surprise?'

'Oh, finally!' Tony shook Bucky's right hand first since he was closer, then inspected his ring as well. 'Oooh, you got one too, nice! Why didn't you tell me?! I thought I'd be the first to know but even birdbrain found out before me...'

Bucky met Steve's eyes over Tony's head and they both rolled their eyes at the same time.

'They didn't tell me either,' Sam interjected. 'I think they wanted to elope.'

'We do now,' Steve said, 'when you're making such a big deal out of it. And we wanted to tell you but then HYDRA—'

'Yes, convenient excuses, isn't it?'

'Tony, the Nazi deathcult we _died_ to destroy just came back to life and you call that _convenient_?'

'Yes, when _you could've just called me to let me know what was happening_ and also to show off your rings!!' Tony said indignantly. 'But no, I have to find out when JARVIS wakes me up in the middle of the night and tells me you two are wanted criminals! And your phones go to voicemail, I check your apartment but it's been cleared, I hack into SHIELD and find out about HYDRA... only you two could do something like that in two days. _And_ I'm not even the first to know about the engagement. I'm hurt, honestly I'm hurt— you don’t even call me when you can barely move you arm? Speaking of, who's been tinkering with it?'

'I have,' Sam said warily.

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, then his eyes flickered to the wings.

'Yeah, okay, not half bad's what you did. So with what else is birdbrain your Nr1 choice instead of me?' Tony looked back to the arm.

'Nothing, Tony, this is not a race,' Bucky said. Steve squeezed his shoulder. 'You designed my ring, you designed my arm, I want to ask you to be my best man, and the only reason we didn't call you was because we thought you were a civilian and we didn't want you to die because of us!'

Tony dropped his screwdriver.

'You want to be— you want me to be your best man???'

'Obviously,' Bucky nodded.

'Well, hell yes, Buckaroo, you didn't even need to ask!' and Tony was hugging Bucky's neck before he could say “I didn't ask”.

'Since we're handing out roles...' Sam started.

'Yes, Sam, I'd like if you were mine,' Steve said.

Sam punched the air.

'How is our wedding priority over HYDRA?' Steve sighed.

'Because there's no way we can't beat HYDRA together,' Tony shrugged. ‘I’m honestly more worried about Bucky’s arm than defeating HYDRA. But I don't get why Romanoff - is she still called Romanoff? - didn't tell you that you could call me.'

'What,' Bucky said.

So it turned out that Romanoff was sent spying on SI and she and Tony had found out about each other's secret identities. Bucky was certain that once this was all over he'd go to a rooftop and scream for an hour straight but as it was... his brain must've given up. There's so much shock the human brain can deal with and his was definitely filled to the rim.

He lit another cigarette, thankful for Steve for bringing them in the first place and for Tony that his arm could now operate the lighter.

~*~*~

A few hours later Fury was able to sit in a chair and they arranged a meeting of some kind - the place had a secret lair vibe, but the dirty, drippy kind, and it did nothing to lift Bucky's spirits. But he got to sit beside Steve, so hey, small joys. The superheroes were wearing their masks again, out of habit long ingrained in their bones, so only Fury's and Hill's faces were fully visible, and then Coulson walked in with Hawkeye in tow.

'We've got what you wanted,' Coulson said without fanfare and placed a black suitcase on the table.

Hawkeye took  Cap and co. in. 'Wow, you look like shit.'

'SHIELD's been kinda trying to kill us,' Nat said with a wry smile.

'Yeah, heard it on the comms. Wanted to come earlier but,' and he shrugged and gestured to Coulson and the suitcase, then flipped a chair so he could sit on it the wrong way. 'What the hell's happening?'

Bucky seconded that so much. But his pain levels returned to easily ignorable, to the point where he remembered to think of superheroes by their aliases instead of the real names, so hey. Always look at the brighter side, no matter how cloudy that still was.

Fury smoothed his hand on the suitcase protectively. 'Alexander Pierce refused the Nobel Peace Prize. He said peace wasn't an achievement but a responsibility. It's stuff like this that gives me trust issues.'

'Wanna compare trust issues?' Cap grumbled.

'Tsk, Cap, where's your manners?' Iron Man asked, and Steve puffed himself up before he remembered who he really was talking to.

'Pierce is HYDRA,' Widow told Hawkeye. 'He's planning on killing a few million people to make it Paradise on Earth for the Nazis.'

'Whoa,' Hawkeye sagged in his chair. 'What's the plan?'

'We have to stop the launch,' Cap said.

‘That may not be as easy as it sounds,’ Hill said.

'The WSC doesn't exactly accept my calls anymore,' Fury said and he opened the suitcase to reveal three chip-like interface... thingies.

'Oooh, is that what I think it is?' Iron Man asked. 'Please tell me it is.'

_Do I look like a telepath to you_ , Hill didn't say but projected it with every fiber of her being. But she explained to them calmly and nicely what the job was - exchange the chips so that the helicarriers won't be able to load their list of targets, even if they launch.

‘So far we haven’t been able to get into their system, and the moment they realize they’re under attack they most likely _will_ launch the Helicarriers,’ she finished.

Bucky looked at Tony— at Iron Man, but he shook his head too. So even JARVIS won’t be able to prevent the launch once it starts.

‘Manual is our only option here,’ Iron Man said.

'So how do we know who's the bad guys?' Falcon asked.

'If they shoot at you, they're probably bad,' Cap deadpanned. Fury didn't appreciate it.

'We have to assume everyone is HYDRA aboard the helicarriers. But if we manage the exchange then we can salvage what's left of SHIELD—'

'How?' Cap interrupted him. 'HYDRA grew under your nose and you didn't even notice!'

_There it is_ , Bucky thought.

'I noticed!' Fury said indignantly. 'Why do you think we're meeting here?'

'People have died before you did, though.'

Fury leaned back. 'Director Carter managed to keep HYDRA at bay for a long time, even without knowing she was doing it. If we eliminate Pierce and behead the organization—'

Cap harrumphed. 'You know what their motto is, right?'

'What would you have me do?' Fury asked back.

Bucky knew the answer, he'd _heard_ the answer from Steve himself: burn the fucking body and salt the earth.

The very earth they, too, were standing on.

Not that it would ever stop Steve, no.

'You told me that SHIELD was compromised,' Cap said. 'You gave me this mission. Captain America fights HYDRA. That's what I will do.'

'And you would destroy the very organization that allows your existence?' Coulson asked.

‘It also allows control to the Nazis,’ Cap said.

'You're crazy,' Iron Man said, and now that Bucky was paying attention he could hear the familiar intonation of his friend in the robotic voice. 'SHIELD is what keeps this world safe!'

'SHIELD is what endangered this world,' Cap fired back. 'Secrecy and hiding in the shadows—'

'—is the deal we accept when we put on the mask,' Iron Man finished. It was eery, how unlike their civil selves they were.

'Then maybe we shouldn't put on one,' Cap said, chin up, and Bucky fought the urge to facepalm.

'A few days ago you didn't want to unmask everybody,' Widow said in a neutral tone.

'I've had a few revelations since then,' Cap said. 'But I still don't want that. As long as we can't see who our friends are, HYDRA will come back over and over and over again.'

'If you eliminate SHIELD, you endanger every employee, not just the special agents,' Coulson said. 'It will be chaos. Our enemies will use that and HYDRA will be the least of our problems.'

Cap opened his mouth but Iron Man interjected. 'Every single government in the world will freak out without SHIELD, believe me. Look at us - look at yourself!' he gestured to the golden beam of the repulsor sizzling out of his palm in demonstration. 'Our power breeds fear. The only reason we can do what we do is because we have regulatory oversight!'

'That oversight now has an agenda, namely to _destroy millions_!' Cap emphasized.

'Then we have to change that!' Iron Man argued. 'How long do you think it'll be before we're branded as fugitives? I can make an educated guess: the first thing we do that a powerhouse country doesn't like and boom! We're going to be criminals if we don't have a legal body to smooth over bureaucratic feathers!'

Cap furrowing his brows was clear even with the helmet on.

Fury put in his two cents. 'Hate to say it, but Iron Man has a point. There's gonna to be laws against you, they're going to want to limit you using your powers and skills, and if— _when_ that fails, there's gonna be lists and incarcerations and antiserums for those like you.'

'I still—' Cap started, but Bucky leaned forward and Cap, in tune as always, turned to him.

'Director Carter founded SHIELD so that superheroes like you wouldn't need to deal with _anything_ that wasn't fighting supervillains like the Red Skull,' Bucky said. 'She was a really smart dame. Maybe a lot has changed since then but not enough to allow a world where we can roam free, I don't think. So maybe we shouldn't burn our bridges until we have a ferry?'

Cap face was unreadable. The room held its breath - nobody laboured under delusions about Captain America being peer pressured into something he didn't think would be the Right Thing. If he wanted SHIELD gone, he would make it happen.

But Bucky knew Steve better than everybody combined knew Cap.

Cap then said, with absolute resignation, 'Hypothetically speaking, how would we destroy HYDRA without destroying SHIELD, then?'

Fury and Iron Man breathed out a sigh of relief. Hawkeye gaped and turned to Widow. 'How did he—'

'Not now,' she shook her head.

Iron Man looked at Fury. 'I think it's time for that secret plan of yours which I, of course, know nothing about - the Avengers Initiative.'

'The what, now,' Falcon said.

_"Then it turned out"_ could’ve been the new motto of Bucky's life, because then it turned out that Fury's favorite six superheroes? That wasn't random. That was supposed to be his endgame dreamteam.

'Why those six?' Bucky asked, genuinely curious.

'Their skillsets compliment each other,' Coulson replied. 'Personal evaluation showed high chances of a profitable dynamic development, which was proven to be the case during the alien attack on New York.'

'It would've been useful to have a team like in the face of the Cabal or Squadron Supreme; something along the lines of the Fantastic Four or the X-Men...' Fury said, nostalgic.

'Why didn't that happen, then?' Cap asked.

'Well, Captain, you were the one who told me off for favoritism,' Fury frowned.

Cap crossed his arms in front of his chest. 'I am not, and was not, the director of SHIELD. You could've still kept on building this secret plan of yours - except maybe it would've been a lot more successful if it weren't so secret, don't you think?'

'Kinda late to lament on that,' Hawekey interjected.

'I didn't push the idea of the Avengers anymore,' Fury gritted his teeth, 'because your ego - all of your ego,' he looked at Steve, at Iron Man, at Nat, at Hawkeye, 'didn't allow you to develop into a team. You kept making mistakes because each of you believed to know better than the rest. There was no point going on.'

An awkward, uncomfortable silence settled over them.

Bucky furrowed his brows. 'Correct me if I'm wrong, but the Fantastic Four is a family, righ? I mean we've been to Invisible Girl and Mister Fantastic's wedding, and the Human Torch is her brother, right?'

He received nods and a cock of head from Widow. She narrowed her eyes at him.

'So they know each other beyond superheroing,' Bucky went on. 'And so do the X-Men.'

'The X-Men _and_ the Brotherhood,' Hawkeye added.

'Exactly. Maybe that's what was missing from us?'

'You sayin' we should hug and kiss?' Iron Man asked. Bucky sent him a glare that he hoped conveyed _as if you weren't overly worried for us only half an hour ago_.

'No, I'm saying maybe Cap's idea of unmasking isn't such a bad idea after all.'

'Oh God, you're such a bad influence on each other,' Iron Man groaned.

'I don't want to unmask superheroes forcefully!' Cap groaned.

'I know,' Bucky said to both. Then he found Cap’s eyes and hoped that he'd get his meaning. ‘But maybe certain superheroes _should_ unmask in front of one another,' to which Steve nodded in agreement, and Bucky nodded, and Steve nodded _again_ , then…

He reached up and pulled his helmet off in one swift motion.

He shook his head to help his hair - the helmet pushed it uncomfortably to the skull - and looked up with the shiest smile Bucky's seen on his face in a long time. 'Hi,' he said. 'I'm Steve Rogers.'

Fury, Hill and Coulson all wore carefully neutral expressions. Iron Man, meanwhile, was facepalming loudly.

'Since when have you been wanting to do that?' Widow asked.

'A while,' Steve shrugged, and Bucky pulled his own mask off too.

Even though the gaping Hawkeye was the only one who didn't know his real identity, plus a few technicians and medical personnel in the back, it still felt huge. Frightening. Liberating. His heart was beating in his throat.

'I'm... Bucky Barnes,' he said, hesitating for a moment, but he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't Bucky. He wasn't gonna start now.

'We're also engaged,' Steve beamed and pulled off his glove to show off his ring.

'Congratulations,' Coulson said dully.

'And I'm also Captain America sometimes,' Bucky said. 'Like, half of the time.'

'Whoa, you can do that?! Split roles??' Hawkeye gawked.

Well, at least _someone_ was surprised to hear the news, Bucky supposed.

'Yeah, but I'll be Winter Soldier for this op.'

'You are both crazy,' Iron Man said, then fiddled with the suit. 'Right, prepare to be shocked, kids,' and the faceplate slid up and Hawkeye's jaw reached new lows.

'You're Tony Stark?!'

'You didn't know?!' Nat gaped at _Hawkeye_ , who wasn't able to make coherent sounds at this point.

'You're just doing that to steal the spotlight,' Bucky grumbled.

'He didn't know who you were anyway,' Tony shrugged.

'Not everybody can be famous like you.'

'Spot on.'

‘You trusted the Captain, so I’ll follow your lead,’ Nat told Fury as she reached up and introduced herself, but even Hawkeye had known her beforehand. Then Falcon put the goggles down and became Sam Wilson, and Hawkeye introduced himself last as Clint Barton. None of them were well-known apart from Tony, and Fury looked like he couldn't decide this being a good or a bad thing.

'So. First step, full-disclosure honesty. Next, I say, is backup,' Tony leaned back. 'So if anybody has superpeople they can trust - and I do mean actual, sure as death _trust_ because we're dealing with secret Nazis and the end of the world here - it's time to get them in the game.'

'I see you're calling the shots now,' Fury remarked drily.

'He's right,' Steve said and Tony did a double take.

'Did you just—'

'Yeah, Tony. If we're doing this, if we're sparing SHIELD, then we need a strong team we can rely on.'

'The Falcon and the Winter Soldier weren't supposed to be on the Avengers Initiative, but Thor and the Hulk were,' Hill interjected.

'This could be phase 2 of the Avengers,' Steve shrugged. 'We're keeping Falcon and Winter Soldier, and whoever else is willing to help us.'

'I'm calling Banner, we need more brains here,' Tony said and he was off making a call.

'I- yeah, gotta make a call too,' and Hawkeye shot off as well.

‘I think what’s been missing from your initial Avengers Team, Sir, was Bucky,’ Natasha told Fury.

~*~*~

Bucky felt so weird without his mask, his brain constantly short-circuited when someone looked at him. But it was even weirder to see Steve without the helmet but in full uniform - not something that happened often, and nothing that happened outside of their apartment.

'Can _we_ call anybody?' Bucky asked him.

'I don't know,' Steve sighed. 'Wolverine's still out of the country, right?'

'Right. How about Magneto? I mean if someone's not part of the Nazi agenda it's him.'

'Yeah, but he'd just drop the Helicarriers from the sky and then who knows, so maybe not.'

'Okay.'

They were silent for a moment. Natasha raised an eyebrow at them from across the table.

'You are on friendly terms with Magneto?'

'Not... friendly,' Steve frowned. 'But we have a history.'

'A shared hatred of Nazis, is what he means. Goes back to when Hitler was doing his thing,' Bucky added.

'How about you? Can you call anybody?' Steve asked.

Natasha shrugged gracefully. 'The only one I'd truly trust is already here,' she nodded towards Barton.

'He the one who didn't kill you?'

'Yes. What about your other friends?'

'Well, it turns out our best friends are actually superheroes, and they are here. Besides them... we don't know anybody.'

'No,' Bucky agreed. 'I feel like... you know, in Secret Santa? When everybody else knows who the others got and you're the only one who's truly keeping a secret, save maybe your best friend who you brainstorm ideas with...'

'Aren't you a bit Jewish for Secret Santa?' Sam chirped in.

Bucky sent a nasty look his way.

'I _can_ appreciate the idea of gift-giving when it's not overcommercialized, Wilson, shut up. Especially when we do it in the baking community and all the gifts are personalized recipes. What about you, do you have any super-friends?'

'Not since Riley, no,' Sam said sadly. 'I didn't even know about you.'

'At least somebody didn't,' Steve sighed and gave Sam a strong pat on the shoulder for empathy.

'You bake?' Nat asked Bucky.

'Yeah. Once we get rid of HYDRA, I can make you spider-decorated cupcakes. You'll love them.'

'Hey, you never offered to make _me_ custom cupcakes!'

'You don't share the recipe for your mom's cookies.'

'I value my life, man, but feel free to take it up with her—'

'Are they always like that?' Nat asked Steve conspiratorially.

'You have no idea.'

~*~*~

Soon the secret lair was swarming with superheroes unmasking - well, maybe not swarming, but the gathering got real nice in size. Tony got in a smaller, unassuming-looking man with round glasses who surprised Bucky every time he spoke by _not_ stuttering, and who introduced himself as "doctor Banner on good days, Hulk on bad ones". He and Tony got around to hacking and tech-stuff that Bucky didn't even try to follow but which was supposed to help determine who was HYDRA and who was plain old unassuming SHIELD, and Sam quickly stood up to lend a helping hand in.

Although if anybody would've asked Bucky he would've said that nobody deserved to work in a secret intelligence agency if they couldn't determine that their next-booth colleagues were Nazis, even if that involved himself.

Barton came back when his phone low on battery and took Nat's, and if Bucky didn't know they were on good terms him not dying after this stunt would've clued him in effectively. Soon Thor arrived and greeted "Clint, greatest of bird warriors!" and "son of Coul!" enthusiastically, and proclaimed interest in smiting all those that threatened the peace of this planet so dear to his heart.

Then someone with no chill introduced himself as "Scott L- I mean Ant-Man, I am Ant-Man!", which had Clint facepalming hard. It was good that they were in the midst of coming out if Scott Lang outed himself without trying, was Bucky's opinion.

Lang and Barton had a shady past outside the law, and Lang got visibly frightened when Tony got back from his next phonecall, but Tony didn't recognize him at all. However, Lang brought a fiery redhead with him and introduced her as Wasp, aka Hope Pym, and Bucky didn't question the legitimacy of that name. She sent demeaning glances towards Tony, and Lang hurried her to the other end of the room.

Bucky hardly got his wits about him again from the shock of Hawkeye knowing so many superheroes when War Machine landed with a heavy thud and the faceplate slid up to reveal...

'Colonel Rhodes?!' Steve, Bucky and Sam asked in unison.

Rhodey at least appeared to be just as taken aback.

'Steve? Bucky?' he hesitated a bit at Sam. '...Senior Wingman Wilson?'

From the looks of it this was Sam's best day of his life. 'Colonel Rhodes?' he asked back, then remembered that he'd already said that and visibly paled.

It took the sting of Bucky having no idea about half of their friends being involved with SHIELD. Honestly, he couldn't have been more surprised if his "rainbow cake collab" friends turned up at this point and declared that they were in fact Inhumans in disguise.

'I mean of course you are Colonel Rhodes, it's just, you are also War Machine?! Which you obviously are, it's just—'

'Not for long, War Machine sells badly,' Hill piped in. 'We're thinking about renaming him Iron Patriot.'

'What?! No!' Sam protested.

'But ma'am, War Machine rocks,' Rhodey said.

'Yeah!' Sam nodded along.

So it turned out (ha!) that while Rhodey had no idea about them being superheroes, he did follow Sam's therapy work as a fellow USAF NCO, which in turn had Sam _swoon_ as he, of course, knew about the famous Colonel - but at least not about him also being War Machine.

Steve cleared his throat, but in a low, almost-accidental kind of way. Bucky arched an eyebrow at him.

‘So, it looks like we won’t be as outnumbered as we thought,’ Steve said, subdued, only for Bucky’s ears to hear - not that anybody paid much mind to them amidst all the unmasking and perplexity.

‘Yeah.’

‘Which means. That we might not be needed on the field, what with Hulk and Thor and Iron Man.’

‘Rogers. Did you hit your head or something?’ Bucky was relatively certain that no such thing had happened, but maybe he missed something - he couldn’t come up with any other passable explanation.

‘What? No! But your arm’s still hurting you, and I don’t think you should strain it more.’

‘My arm is _fine_ , see?’ Bucky lifted his left and demonstrated his dexterity by cocking his Derringer. He almost bent the metal - the nervous response did lag, but so did the pain, _finally_. ‘It’s mission-ready.’

Steve pursed his lips and thought real hard about how to approach the issue. ‘It would be better if you let it rest, though. And I’m not implying I leave you behind, I could help - _we_ could help with coordinating the mission from behind the scenes.’

Bucky. Bucky just stared at Steve. ‘Steve, are you seriously implying Captain America sit out the Grand Fight for Freedom Against HYDRA? Seriously?’

Poor, poor Steve looked completely torn. ‘Sam could wear the suit for all I care,’ he muttered.

‘Steve. You love fighting. It’s in your blood. We got where we are because you couldn’t be talked down from wanting to punch Nazis. Tell me I’m wrong and you _want_ to watch from behind the scenes and we will. But if not then your place is out there in the front line, and mine is right next to you.’

Steve leaned towards him and grabbed his right hand. ‘But your arm—’

Bucky cupped Steve’s face with his left and Steve leaned into the cold, inhuman touch. ‘My arm can take it. Stop trying to take away my agency, you punk, and let me decide for myself.’

‘Jerk,’ Steve whispered, but nodded all the same. ‘All right. If you’re sure—’

‘I am sure. I want in on this mission, and so do you.’

Steve kissed his palm.

~*~*~

Everybody was socializing as much as they could in a secret bunker inside a dam, and Bucky's former theory about all superpeople being crazy was swiftly confirmed. There were a considerable amount of gasps as people revealed their faces, apart from Thor of course who thought this secrecy had always been strange in the first place. 'In Asgard, heroes are celebrated in our halls after a battle and everybody sings their names!' he bellowed.

'Yeah, trust me, paparazzi are much harder to deal with than poems,' Tony remarked drily.

‘Unless you manage them right from the start,’ Wasp said, and Tony’s squint was outright malevolent - as it turned out, her father, Hank Pym was one of Tony’s business rivals. But Lang sensed danger, and stepped in.

'Now that we are all gathered here altogether together, can someone explain why we're all gathered here together?' he asked. 'Not that I - you know, I'm honored to be involved! But, uh, this grand reveal isn't a premise of an execution, right?'

'Where did you meet this guy?' Tony asked Barton.

'You don't want to know. But at least he was available, whereas Daredevil just said he was _busy_.'

Bucky met Natasha’s eyes, but she just shrugged gracefully.

'Everybody sit down, or at least stop fidgeting and listen,' Fury bellowed. Once all eyes were on him he sat back - he wasn't even supposed to stand up, Bucky guessed by the doctors' anxious glances - and laced his fingers together atop the table.

'Director, you're alive!' Lang thrilled.

'He was dead before?' Thor asked.

Fury closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then another before he opened them. 'Now listen very well because my doctors will be very disappointed if I get an aneurysm after they just managed to save my life, so I'm only going to say this once. Some of SHIELD - we don't know the exact number - is infiltrated by HYDRA. Yes, the Nazi organization Captain America almost died to kill. They're back and they've created a... program, shall we say, that will kill millions of their strongest enemies, likely including all of us here, via Project Insight, SHIELD's supposedly defensive Helicarrier installments. So. We're here to stop that.'

'And to kill HYDRA, once and for all,' Steve added.

'But keep SHIELD intact as much as possible,' Tony added.

'Before the launch in... 8 hours,' Hill added.

There was a bit of a pause.

'So, nothing serious, right?' Rhodey asked, and a wry smile curved up many lips.

'You really shouldn't take this lightly,' Coulson said. 'If even one Helicarrier makes it up millions will die - world leaders, influential people, most likely the non-compromised half of SHIELD and superheroes as well as your families and friends, and everybody that could have a chance of stopping HYDRA.'

'Okay, we'll stop them if you tell us how,' Hope Pym said, as the threat of beloved one's deaths effectively put a damper on the mood.

'You have to exchange the algorithm of their computers with ours,' Hill said. 'They'll probably try to stop you. With guns and stuff.'

'We're kinda used to that,' Barton shrugged.

'We need you to bring back the chips from the original algorithms,' Tony clarified. 'Based on HYDRA targets we can start eliminating who worked for them and who didn't.'

'Okay, but just because someone's not on the instant kill list-' Sam started.

'-doesn't automatically mean they're HYDRA, yes,' Banner finished. Sam nodded, relieved.

‘I’ve encrypted superhero identities in the meantime, just to make sure nobody gets outed, no matter what. And I think I can help with the "shooting at us" part as well,' Tony said. 'More specifically, _you_ can,' and he pointed at Steve.

'Me?' Steve looked like Tony confused his superpowers with someone else's. Bucky rolled his eyes at his timidity.

'Yes. Even given last week's events you are still Captain America - more or less,' he waved before Steve could object. 'People still trust you, for the most part, because HYDRA couldn't give them a solid enough reason not to, and we'll ride on that. You're going to unveil HYDRA and shame people for being Nazis.'

'C'mon, Tony, do you really think that'll work?'

'Why wouldn't it? The Captain America Is Disappointed In You look is what halved incarcerations in the last three years.' Everybody around the table nodded along, even Hill. 'If you tell SHIELD that SHIELD is wrong, then they will sit in a corner and think about what they've done. We'll use that.'

'I asked you to help with this because I knew Cap was the one for the job,' Fury said, then gestured around. 'You've already done more than I would've ever dared to dream.'

Steve still looked like people expected too much of him, which - wasn't something that Bucky saw often, admittedly. Before the serum, and for a long, long while after the serum (maybe about 70 years or so) people looked at Steve and didn't expect anything, and certainly not anything with brains or actual usefulness.

'I think you overestimate Cap,' Steve said.

'People turned Captain America into a symbol that is larger than life,' Tony said, breaking eye contact with Steve only to nod at Bucky as well. 'I should know, my dad was one of those people. So now it's our turn to turn that symbol around and have it serve its original purpose, which is as far as I can tell to rile people against Nazis.'

'If someone can pull this, it's you, Steve,' Bucky added, while making a another mental note to talk to Tony about Cap and Howard later. Steve looked at him.  'You've always had that power inside to defeat bullies and be a voice of the underdog, even without the costume. Your voice is just louder with it on.'

'Listen to your better half, he knows what's up,' Tony clasped. Bucky would never tire of that title, nor the facial reactions to the news that neither Cap was straight - because of course Steve made sure that was included in the ‘about me’ segment of the introductions.

'Okay, I trust that you know what you're onto,' Steve said.

'Brilliant! So the next step is the press conference.'

Tony set up a camera and lights from God only knew where. Steve washed his face and tried to dust off the uniform, but the problem with blood and grime was that it couldn't just be dusted off. Bucky put his arms on Steve's and squeezed to calm him.

'Are you sure you don't want to do this instead?' Steve asked him. This selfless idiot, seriously.

'One hundred percent,' Bucky said. 'You have a natural knack for motivational speeches. _And_ you are the true voice of Cap.'

'You are also Cap.'

'Yes, but I... I never _lived_ it the way you did. And I'm more content with the silver star anyway, especially when your uniform wouldn't fit me.'

From the way Steve's smile curled upwards Bucky expected a joke about that, but then Steve just laced their fingers together. 'I'm...' he said, 'this isn't the time or place but I don't feel that much like Cap anymore, either.'

Bucky did a double-take. When did that happen?

'It used to be a great chance to be different and do something, but now it's... it's this tight box that I can't get out of,' Steve went on. Bucky swallowed. Steve seemed so lost, yet still determined to do something right, it took Bucky's breath away. 'I feel like sometimes Cap does more harm than helps.'

Bucky nodded. 'I get that feeling.'

'I know. Once this is over we'll figure it out?' and there was such a hopeful arch in that question. Bucky kissed him short and chaste.

'Of course.'

They made two recordings of Steve. The first one was written by Coulson, Tony and Steve, and it addressed the general public, asking them to stay cautious in a way that would hopefully prevent chaos. The second Steve improvised on his own for authenticity, wearing the helmet, and telling SHIELD employees about HYDRA, the need to take action in the face of this threat, and generally being very inspirational. Thor started clapping as soon as he was done and Steve ducked his head when the others joined in the applause.

_Let's hear it for Captain America!_ an echo in Bucky's head said, but instead of beaming at Carter Steve beamed at Bucky.

'You did great, pal,' Bucky clapped his shoulder.

'I had some practice,' Steve smiled back.

Tony visibly swallowed back some comments as his fingers flew on the keyboard.

'We'll broadcast those once you're at SHIELD,' Hill said, supervising Tony.

'Exactly when you start raiding the place,' Fury added.

'Good plan.'

They formed three teams. This was tricky as everyone wanted to be with their buddies but the superpowers needed to be distributed evenly, so Fury, Steve and Tony took the wheel and steered it steadily.

'I will lead the Alpha Team,' Steve said. 'Iron Man the Beta and Thor the Gamma. With me is Winter Soldier and Falcon.'

'I take War Machine and Hawkeye. So that leaves Thor with Ant-Man and the Wasp. The Hulk will only be called in if things go pear-shaped, to whichever team is needed; Hill, Coulson and Black Widow will take out Price.'

Banner nodded along in full agreement. Bucky shuddered, foreseeing Pierce's future if Nat got her hands on him.

'Everyone, remember: this is HYDRA. If you're shot at, shoot back and aim to kill. The Team Leaders will get the data back so that we can sort out the mess later. The bridges will also be needed to be taken out individually; we can’t let them reload and manually destroy what their programs can’t.  And we won’t have a second chance with this.'

'Pick a comm,' Tony distributed earpieces all around. 'Stay in touch. Follow your team leaders or Cap.'

Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

'This is your arch nemesis and you're the tactical genius of the century,' Tony shrugged. 'And you're a better leader than me.'

'You're selling yourself too short, Tony,' Steve shook his head. 'But I'll take this one. Suit up, everyone.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had absolutely NO INTENTION of involving tony or the avengers. but we got here and i realized there was no way tony wouldn't show up upon hearing the news about cap and fury. 
> 
> calling people by their superhero names was something i've been failing since october, but i might go back and edit stuff retroactively. sorry.
> 
> also next update will come a week later than usual; i'm in paralyzing fear due to my graduation exam at uni. see ya then!
> 
> (comments and encouragements welcome!)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm sorry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again huge thanks to @menatiera for her cheerleading, brainstorming, support and betaing! 
> 
> And for your patience as well, dear readers :) We had a lot on our plates but the new chapter is here!

They got into SHIELD HQ ridiculously easily, considering that they were dressed up in full-on superhero outfits and SHIELD was supposedly a highly capable intelligence agency monitoring this kind of thing.

Tony hacked into the system - again, an organization responsible for world peace and shit _should have had better security_ , no wonder HYDRA infiltrated them so easily - and they didn't even need to kick down the door because that opened for them automatically just as Steve's speech started blaring from the speakers.

If Steve had been a mutant, his superpower sure would’ve been moving speeches without breaking a sweat, because he managed to stick to the truth, that there was a wolf among the flock, a _multi-headed_ wolf, but he made fighting back and helping the Avengers sound like the logical and morally appropriate choice. Which it was, by the way, and Steve’s speech conveyed that with the conviction of a priest.

The teams aimed for their respective Helicarriers, but Hill was right: as soon as the ambush started, the Helis were launched. Bucky kind of regretted not attacking in stealth mode, then he looked at Thor and Iron Man and yeah, no way would’ve that worked.

HYDRA fought back tooth and nail, and most of the STRIKE teams seemed to be on their side. But it didn't help HYDRA’s cause that Steve's speech had true SHIELD agents up in arms, and indeed they were easy to tell apart from the bad guys because they weren't shooting at the Avengers - as they all agreed to call themselves as the name was theirs to take anyway - but at those attempting to stop the team.

Bucky threw some grenades to take out some asses that were shooting at Steve as they jumped and climbed aboard their Helicarrier. Sam flew up and around, and Bucky saw on his periphery that the flying Avengers - Wasp, Iron Man and War Machine - helped their landbound teammates up in the air. His focus remained on Steve, though, as always, because the idiot _still wasn't using the shield as an actual s h i e l d_ and it was in Bucky's best interest to keep him alive.

The only problem was that not a lot of focus was needed to fight against HYDRA. Their methods weren't much more refined than in WWII and they lost that fight too, even if they seemingly took Cap down as well. Still, Bucky preferred not to waste ammo and he took whatever he could from the fallen goons - guns, grenades, things that looked like pepper sprays but turned out to be some kind of lethal gas - and used those instead of his own. The result of the gas repulsed him but the grenades he'd been always fond of - now _those_ were weapons made for semi-long distance, _take note, Steve_.

But oh no, Steve's Cap never armed himself other than his shield and the occasional gun here and there, although Bucky had to give it to him: he too was great at using enemy weapons against the enemy. Bucky could personally never get on with that plan - the only thing better than two guns and two backup guns were another two backup-backup guns, just in case. Noble and just is fine, but less preferable than alive.

Speaking of.

Bucky was taking out the enemy on nothing more than autopilot, something years spent in the field taught him: use sunlight to blind the enemy, fire, duck, use shadows to locate exact position of the enemy, use previously confiscated knife to throw and eliminate the enemy, shoot whoever was shooting at Cap.  This left enough room for his mind to wander back to what Steve had told him just before the recording.

How did - how did Bucky miss that? Was he too busy resenting Cap to miss Steve's own resentment?

Apparently so.

To think that a year ago they started out as recruiting another Cap and now here they were, talking about putting down the shield. Maybe permanently?

Steve would never not want to help people, Bucky thought as he watched from the scope of his rifle how Cap took out three goons by one throw of the shield. And Bucky would never want to not help either, or not watch Steve's six and make sure he wasn't forgotten in the line of saving. Were there other way, other than the stars and stripes?

He stabbed someone who wanted to sneak upon him and relocated.

Well, other ways than making angry Twitter posts about politics? Because that certainly won't satisfy Steve's itch.

Iron Man had something exploding in a bright, almost firework-like fashion above his designated Helicarrier that had the teams stop for a second in amazement.

'Wow, did you guys see that?' Ant-Man chimed in with wonder. 'That looked cool!'

‘Wait until you see his birthday parties,’ War Machine replied.

'Status?' Hill asked, probably to prevent further quipping.

'Engaging,' replied all three leaders in a row.

Bucky briefly took his eyes off of Cap to check how everybody was doing on the other Helicarriers, thanking his mind for acrophobia not being part of his baggage - all three carriers were well above the ground, the buildings and the Potomac shrinking to maquette sizes. Just like Bucky and Steve, the non-flying members of the other two teams progressed on the flight decks towards the bridges.  

Iron Man and War Machine seemingly had no difficulties whatsoever as they took HYDRA down one by one in an effortless-looking, well-practiced and synchronized manner. Bucky had no doubt that they were bitching on their private comms too, and he didn't envy Hawkeye who had to listen to all this while firing arrows left and right rapidly.

Bucky’s mind kept wandering.

Tony was Iron Man. That was almost as shocking as Steve wanting to put the shield down. But in hindsight Bucky could see how the abrasive, loud-mouthed attitude was just that: a mask to hide his issues behind. They may have all been like that, after all, and Bucky had never been more behind Steve’s idea of mutual unmasking. (Well, except for Crossbones. No trauma could make being a Nazi excusable.)

The Avengers biggest disadvantage was trying to play nicely. No exploding places where genuine SHIELD agents might be; no shooting the Helicarriers out of the sky. HYDRA, naturally, had no worries about innocent lives being lost, plus they made up in quantity what they lacked in quality. For every agent shot down, two other resurfaced, and Bucky grew to hate their motto with a new abandon.

No lightning sparked around Thor's hammer, which meant that Thor took the mission briefing seriously and didn't engage extraterrestrial force in case he short-circuited a Helicarrier before they could make the exchange. It'd be bad not only for the lack of the target chip to find out who was HYDRA and who wasn't, but also for the gigantic piece of metal falling down onto civilians and the like.

He did well by punching them out ten at a time, though, with Ant-Man using a surprisingly agile size-shifting to punch people out and the Wasp stinging everyone from above.

A goon tried to ambush Bucky by ramming into him and trying to push him into the front left propeller. Bucky sidestepped the attack and the goon went flying over the edge instead. Bucky took this as his cue to move away from the ledge - acoraphobia or not, he’d rather not fall down again, thank you very much.

He blocked the next round of bullets aiming at him with his left arm. Apparently HYDRA realized they should take out the sharpshooters and airborne team members instead of concentrating their forces on the silver target of Cap’s shield - solid plan, Bucky applauded from a tactical standpoint. It meant, however, that he had to use long-range means.

His left finally functional enough for the submachine gun holstered on his back, he took out about half a dozen goons and then some more after sneaking around some containers. The SAW was better from a distance, though, and so Bucky went back to his trusted Colt, and then to his Derringer when he ran out of ammo for the Colt.

He looked up to locate the bright colors of Cap, still blurry with motion and far away enough, before throwing a grenade to the midst of a new round of HYDRA goons and rolling to avoid the results.

That gave him a breather: he assured Steve he was fine, then threw another grenade into a Quinjet about to take off. He also gave silent thanks to Tony for designing comms that blocked the noise - all the shooting and exploding would’ve taken a toll on his superhearing.

Not that he would’ve distracted the teams much: the Avengers treated the fight against HYDRA like a videogame played on ‘beginner’. He tuned out the other member's squabble, and directed his attention back to his own team - only to look up when LARGE missiles were fired by a Quinjet at Falcon who then disappeared from the sky with a soft _'shit'_.

'Shit,' Bucky agreed, and proceeded to gift some grenades to the - what were those? _Rocket launchers?_ What had SHIELD been thinking when they okayed these mechanisms as "defense"? Because sure, they may have been good for that, but they were much better at taking out smaller towns in one go.

They also blew up leaving town-sized craters behind, and Bucky wasn't prepared for that especially without the shield, and he jerked his head back from the sudden assault of heat and smoke.

He should’ve paid more attention to his surroundings because the next moment pain _erupted_ behind his eyelids, starting from his left arm but paralyzing his whole left side and brain from the overload, and he barely registered the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple, still hot from the shots previously fired.

'Drop the shield, Cap, or I'll paint the ground with your buddy's brain,' Crossbones said.

Bucky heard chaos over the comms, muted at first then clearer as his own hearing readjusted after the explosion, but he concentrated on only one sound: Steve's breathing which hitched only once.

'Yeah, don't think I didn't notice your "special bond" - your best bud, your pal...' Crossbones spat. 'Drop the shield or I'll scatter his brain.'

The shield fell with a hollow clang, clear even in the midst of the battle. Bucky didn’t try to move his arm.

'Yeah, that's what I thought. You faggots, clear from a mile.'

'You tried to frame him for his complaint issued against you,' Steve realized the exact same moment Bucky did.

'Men like you don't have the right to complain about men like me,' Crossbones snarled. 'You have no right to exist in our world.' He clicked his tongue. 'This is gonna hurt. There are no prisoners with HYDRA, just order, and order only comes through pain. Are you ready for yours?'

Bucky dropped to his side and kicked Crossbones's leg from under him a millisecond before the trigger was pulled. The bullet missed him by a hair’s breadth, and the next second he caught the shield with his right, which Steve kicked to him to give himself some cover just in time for the next round of bullets from Crossbones. The bang from the last bullet still rang in Bucky's ears when Steve _flew_ at Crossbones and punched him so hard he barrelled right into a container some dozen feet away, then dropped to the ground limpless and didn't move anymore.

'Are you alright?' Steve took the shield from Bucky and tossed it away carelessly to have both hands free, then cupped Bucky's face with both hands.

''m fine,' Bucky mumbled and tore the little circular device from his arm that disabled him so easily. Some fabric and even some metal came with the tiny little weapon, and Bucky gritted his teeth - Tony would have a lot to work with, plus now he had to watch his left side _again_ and hide the pain from Steve. Again.

Wait.

Where _was_ the pain?

Suddenly his arm didn’t hurt anymore. He flexed his fingers, close to panic, but they moved, albeit slower and lumpily, but they moved. Thank _fuck._ The lack of pain still threw him into a loop, though.

He rotated his arm and the plates recalibrated as much as possible.

'I was so worried,' Steve closed his eyes for a brief moment.

'I hate that asshole,' Bucky agreed. Then the world caught up with them in the form of Sam landing next to them, still sweating from the race with the missiles.

'They're fine, don't worry,' Sam said, and it took a couple of seconds until Bucky realized the team was listening in on the comms. His tunnel vision also translated into tunnel hearing, it seemed, because up until Sam’s arrival Bucky completely blocked the sounds on the comms.  

Steve stepped back and took out the chip from his belt. ‘Falcon, take this.'

Sam— Falcon, _Falcon_ caught it swiftly, not that Bucky was able to separate his friends from their aliases anymore.

Falcon arched his eyebrow. 'Are you...?'

'Yeah, go.'

Sam nodded and followed the order like the good soldier he wasn't anymore.

'Don't be dumb, Steve,' Bucky said.

Steve shook his head. 'Let's take out the bridge,' he said and he picked up the shield and gave it to Bucky.

'You are an idiot. It's your shield.'

'I'll be your shield, then,' Steve said and positioned himself to Bucky's left. Bucky’s mind was still trying to recover from the whiplash too much to argue, so he just took his Derringer into his right hand and they moved towards the bridge.

'We are really fine,' Bucky grunted into his comm to shut Tony up.

'Good, I don't want to arrange a funeral instead of a wedding,' and Bucky would've been touched by friends who cared any other time but right then he just wanted to be done with everything, especially HYDRA inventing weapons that could damage his arm so much.

'Marriage? CONGRATULATIONS!' Thor boomed, apparently having missed the memo during the unmasking.

'Thank you,' Steve sighed.

'How did you keep the fact that you're Iron Man a secret for so long?' Wasp asked, and Bucky totally saw her point.

'Not for the lack of trying,' War Machine quipped.

'Pierce is down, I repeat, Pierce is down,' Hill said with a clear note of contentment. 'Black Widow released some of the compromising files onto the internet. The rest will need to be skimmed.'

'JARVIS can get onto that,' Iron Man said.

'Gamma Helicarrier chip exchanged!' Thor said happily. 'The Wasp is taking the enemy’s chip down to the base!'

Hawkeye cheered.

'Winter Soldier and I will take Alpha bridge,' Steve said.

Most of the Helicarrier’s crew still was shooting at Sam as he flew down. Steve consciously and consistently kept to Bucky's left and miracle of miracles, his urge to protect Bucky compelled him to use his shield as intended. If only Bucky'd known his left arm getting half-paralyzed was what it took to teach him this lesson he would've done it sooner.

Although, second thought.

Bucky flexed and unflexed his left experimentally. The pain was still missing and with every movement Bucky expected it to return. What was worse was how his movements kept lagging and being just _off_ more and more, and a new, heavy feeling settled in his stomach. He gripped his Derringer tighter to keep himself focused and his eyes on possible targets instead of on his fingers.

Steve took out two goons with a roundhouse kick and a punch with the shield. Bucky shot the third and threw his suddenly empty Derringer at the fourth who crumbled like a sack of potatoes as a result. The fact that he didn’t keep track of his ammo spoke volumes of his mental state and he shook himself - no need to let anyone surprise him from behind again.

He pulled his SIG from his left thigh holster, careful not to wreck the handle, and it felt as if he was drunk, uncoordinated and imprecise with his movements. He took the gun to his right.

'Can we leak everything that shows Pierce was dirty?' Tony asked.

'If it doesn't compromise SHIELD further,' Coulson said.

'Or superhero identities,' Hill added.

'All right. On it.'

Bucky held out his arm to signal Steve to stay put. Steve crouched behind a pile of whatever that was stashed in the hangar, and Bucky used the reflective windshield of a fighter plane to determine the right moment. They then moved in unison and Bucky fired at Steve's shield, the bullet ricocheted back and hit the goon right in the stomach. This diverted his companion's attention and Steve jumped and took that one out with a swift kick.

Miraculously, Steve's codes still opened the door to the lift. They went down.

'Beta launch,' Iron Man said and a round of cheers welcomed his success. 'I'll take it down to the ground.'

'Shit, Iron Man, watch out!'

Bucky and Steve looked at each other with wide-eyed worry as the sounds of missiles being fired filled the comms. A fighter plane must've found Tony - but he had backup, he had to have backup, and Iron Man was the best armoured of the team, save except maybe War Machine...

'Plane down,' Hawkeye said calmly.

'Thanks, Legolas,' Tony replied.

Steve and Bucky sighed in unison.

Well, if hearing Crossbones attacking Bucky was the same kind of nervewrecking, no wonder everybody tied themselves into knots. For the first time they went to battle not only as colleagues but as friends too, and the stressfactor escalated from past missions that Bucky was familiar with  to nearly unbearable new levels.

'Gamma looks clear,' Ant-Man said. 'What should we do with the leftovers?'

'Do you have prisoners?' Steve asked.

'Some may be unconscious instead of dead,' Wasp answered.

'Lock them in a contained place until reinforcements gets there. Do you have control of the bridge?'

'Aye. They fell like ants to the mighty Mjölnir!'

'Can you fly the Helicarrier, Thor?' Hill sounded suspicious.

'...it is a ship, is it not?'

'No, don't try to pilot it! I'll go back and land it for you,' Iron Man intercepted, probably foreseeing the damage Thor crashing the Helicarrier would entail.

'All right, Man of Iron, I will do as you ask.'

Bucky nodded at Steve who let go of the hold button and they stepped out of the elevator, finally at the bridge’s level.

Nobody shot at them. Steve went first with shield held high, and Bucky followed with his gun aimed at a potential enemy.

Nothing.

The engines rumbled softly, and muted gunfire was heard from outside, but for all intents and purposes the Helicarrier was deserted. Steve's near perfect memory lead them through corridors and crossroads and quarters, but uncharacteristically slowly and carefully as they stopped at every turn in case another nasty surprise waited for them.

Bucky still had no feeling in his left arm.

'Alpha launch,' Falcon said in his comm. 'En route to the ground with the real chip.'

'Good job, team,' Hill said with audible relief. 'Beta team, do you have control over the bridge?'

'Yes,' War Machine answered. 'This thing won’t kill anybody today.'

'Alpha team?'

'En route to the bridge,' Steve answered and they went on.

‘Watch out, the grandpas are lagging behind,’ Iron Man said.

‘Be respectful of your elders,’ Falcon replied immediately.

‘I think, technically speaking, Thor is the oldest,’ Wasp said.

Bucky ignored them and they opened the main door to the bridge in the same fashion they left the elevator: Steve protecting their midsections with the shield and Bucky preparing to fire.

The three HYDRA personnel on the bridge were still trying to revive Zola's program to aim the guns.

'Hands above your head,' Steve greeted them. They turned and one drew a gun but Bucky shot him without hesitation. The one sitting at the controls frantically searched for something to blow the Avengers up with, Bucky supposed, and shot him too. The third one dutifully fell to his knees and raised his hands in surrender.

'Smart,' Bucky remarked and ziptied his hands. It took two tries to get everything in order - his left just kept misaiming by inches, no matter how hard he concentrated. And still no feeling, that didn’t help either.

He had a very, very bad feeling about this. The smart thing to do would’ve been to get medical help and not be a burden on the Team… But Bucky was never famous for being brainy.

Besides, they had control over all the Helis. They’d exchanged the chips. The battle was over, the war was won, Bucky’s arm could wait the extra five minutes by Steve’s side until they landed.

'Alpha bridge secure,' Steve said to the comm.

'Nicely done. Wait for Iron Man to bring those things down,' Hill said.

'Roger that.'

'I bet you do,' Hawkeye said, but Steve didn't react - his brows furrowed as he checked the monitors over.

'Something wrong?' Bucky asked.

'I'm pretty sure those aren't supposed to be there...' he pointed at some blue warnings blinking on the 3D blueprints.

Bucky leaned closer to figure out what the hell those meant when the floor they were standing on shook with a nasty-sounding rumble.

'What the fuck—'

Then another, so strong that its force knocked Bucky and Steve sideways.

'Shit, Cap, your engine's on fire!'

Warning signs blared to life around them, a siren screamed and red lights flashed, and now the screens made the problem very clear - two of the alpha engines were indeed on fire.

'What the fuck?!'

The Helicarrier behaved like a supercarrier out on the sea - sluggish and drowsy, hard to initiate into moving but equally hard to bring to a halt once that movement began.

And pretty impossible to stop the sinking if it was about to go down.

It tilted to the side leisurely, a 2° imbalance at first, then a 4°, then a 7° - and the one conscious HYDRA goon yelled incoherently about not wanting to die so Bucky cocked his gun right next to his ear.

'You can become unconscious if that'll make you less annoying,' he warned, and that shut him up.

'Front right and rear left engine on fire,' Steve reported. 'Iron Man—'

'I can see it. I'll check out the damage,' and Iron Man flew up and Steve's fingers blurred as he typed frantically, but no dice.

The Helicarrier slid to the right at an anguishingly reluctant speed.

Bucky cursed HYDRA, himself for counting his chicks before they hatched, and Murphy.

'Fire's mostly out but there's no helping this engine,' War Machine reported. 'Iron Man, how's it looking at the rear?'

'Same,' and Tony sounded extremely annoyed.

'Who the hell sabotaged the engines?' Ant-Man asked.

'...Crossbones,' Bucky snarled.

Steve looked at him sideways. 'I punched hard enough to kill.'

'A human, maybe,' Bucky replied. Now the top of SHIELD HQ was visible from the bridge at a weird angle. 'We don't know what HYDRA may have given him. Or if he had help.’

Steve nodded in agreement.

'You'll crash into HQ if we don't do something,' Banner said suddenly, surprising Bucky, but of course he followed the action in case the Hulk needed to make an appearance. 'Two engines aren’t enough to keep a Helicarrier moving and the weight isn’t balanced equally, it’s already leaning to the side pretty hard. It’s going to smash the building and everyone in it.'

'Start the evacuation immediately,' Coulson ordered.

'There's no way everyone'd make it out alive,' Iron Man said. 'Cap, you two need to get out as well.'

'Isn't there a way to stop that thing?' Hawkeye asked anxiously.

'Not from falling, no.'

'...and how about where it falls?'

Banner got silent again, and only typing was heard.

A lightbulb lit up Bucky's brain, and he grabbed Steve's arm.. 'We have to crash the Helicarrier into the water.'

A hilariously crestfallen expression crossed Steve's face, which then turned into steely determination. 'No, Bucky - I promised this wouldn't be another Valkyrie!'

Bucky gritted his teeth through the pain and stupidity.

'I didn't mean we should be on it when it crashes! Jesus, I don't have a death wish!'

Steve looked like he'd been through a blender. 'Good.'

'We need to talk about you being casually suicidal, Cap,' Sam said dead serious.

'Maybe leave that conversation for _after_ we’ve saved HQ?' Hawkeye offered.

'Yeah. So what's the plan?'

'I just checked,' Banner joined in again, 'and if you turn off the front left engine it will change course and move away from populated areas. But you won’t be able to steer anywhere with only one engine, just basidally nosedive into the river.'

Steve immediately gave the command, but the Helicarrier, being a piece of top-notch technology, refused to turn the engine off whilst still in flight. 'We can't shut down the engine,' he said helplessly.

'Manual it is,' and Iron Man flew and with him went War Machine and Wasp and they all fired at the engine until it exploded in a blaze.

The alarms weren't blaring any louder, and the Helicarrier didn't right itself either. Instead it leaned to the left and to the front, now, and Iron Man and War Machine went around it to push it from behind.

'Do you need my help?' Thor asked.

'No, we can do this,' Iron Man answered.

'Thor, make sure there's no ships or other vehicles on the water,' Steve added. 'What can we do to reduce the splash?'

'Basically nothing, we're not the X-men,' Hill said. 'The best we can do is try to glide it down to minimize the waves.'

'Let's do that, then.'

Bucky didn't realize how hard he clutched his own wrist with his right hand until he felt the pain, and for a moment relief flooded him - but it was his right that that sent the signal, his right that started bleeding on sharp, unfeeling metal.

Steve turned to him hearing his hiss.

'I just... wanted to make sure I still have the left,' Bucky whispered, carefully taking deep and even breaths, because unless he looked at his arm he had no way of telling if it was still connected to his body. But he regretted even saying this much the instant he saw Steve's face falling. 'I'm fine.'

'This isn't the Valkyrie,' Steve murmured and draw him close to wrap both of Bucky's hands in his. Even when it moved slightly, tThe left was nothing but dead weight. 'We'll get out alive and unfrozen.'

'Blowing up is a bigger concern now than freezing anyway,' Bucky smiled weakly. He took a couple of deep breaths to brace himself and wished he could close his eyes to not see the horizon coming closer, that he wouldn't have senses that told him they were tilting more and more and more downwards and -

Steve squeezed his hand hard. 'We'll get out. There's no other option. Pull yourself together, Soldier.'

And Bucky reacted to Steve's orders as he always had, with grim determination to follow through if it killed him, safe in the knowledge that Steve would make sure he survived.

'Wasp, Falcon, can you pick us up before we hit the water?'

'Yes.'

'Of course.'

'Good. We have one prisoner too. Take him first and make sure nobody else is aboard in the meantime. Iron Man, what do you need us to do?'

Falcon and Wasp sweeped the Helicarrier and gathered people, not that there were many to begin with - the remaining few HYDRA goons jumped into planes left and right and fleed heedlessly, and the SHIELD personnel also took the warning sirens to heart. Steve used the speakers to order everyone to leave with either the Avengers or by themselves, if they were capable.

Tony directed them, using Banner, JARVIS and his own legendary brain to calculate and evaluate and make sure the damage was minimal. He and Rhodey opted to slowly direct the Helicarrier in case it accelerated beyond their control and shot over the designated landing area of water.

Steve needed to open certain parts of the Helicarrier for optimal directional or speed results, or add fuel to the engines, something the vehicle wasn't very keen on doing thanks to the fire. So Wasp destroyed some parts with her sting-like weapons and Sam also placed detonations and timed them according to Tony's wishes.

Wasp took the still alive but very pale HYDRA goon from the bridge.

'Do you need a pickup now?' Sam asked.

Steve looked at Bucky.

Bucky wished to go, God, he really, really did - but not without Steve, never without Steve.

'I'll stay until you do,' he said.

Steve nodded grimly. 'Not yet.'

Whatever complicated idea Tony had, it worked, because they didn't drop from the sky like a rock but glided almost gracefully downwards.

The only problem was that while the Helicarriers were amphibians, made for water and for air, they were not made for fire. The flames spread gradually but unstoppably and the roaring noise was palpable from even the bridge.

'Okay, we did what we could, War Machine, retreat,' Iron Man said and he and Rhodey let go of the Helicarrier.

'The carrier is empty of all life forms apart from you too,' Hill reported.

'Do we need to do anything else here?' Steve asked.

'No,' Iron Man replied hastily.

'Iron Man, do we need to remain on the Helicarrier?'

'I said no!' Tony's voice conveyed annoyance. And worry. 'It's on its course. Wasp, Falcon, pick them up.'

Steve narrowed his eyes but since Tony wasn't there he couldn't intimidate him - not that it ever worked on Tony. He even opened his mouth to check it a third time, then closed it and shook his head. 'I trust you, Iron Man,' he said instead of whatever objections he must've had.

Bucky nodded. 'Let's get the fuck off.'

The Helicarrier behaved less like a slow ship and more like a steadily accelerating carriage pushed down a hill. The wind blew in their faces cuttingly as they walked out to the deck, and Bucky needed all his strength to avoid panicking as they saw the water coming closer and closer. Steve grabbed his hand and his own face was no better than Bucky's; no doubt the memories from the Valkyrie resurfaced in his mind too. It probably was even worse for him, since he was actually conscious that time when—

And then Wasp and Falcon were there and they caught Steve and Bucky respectively by their raised hands, and then they landed just in time to watch the Helicarrier collide with the water, much less forcefully than they intended but still unleashing a tsunami of waves.

~*~*~

That was not the end, of course. Emergency personnel started fishing the remains of the Helicarrier out from the Potomac before the currents could carry scattered metal too far away. Personnel verified by Hill locked the captured goons away . The medical staff treated the injuries.

A doctor approached Bucky, but he shook his head even as he nursed his by now totally unresponsive left with his right. It may not have looked as a prosthetic underneath the black of his uniform, but an ordinary medic wouldn’t have been able to help him.

‘Iron Man, could you help us,’ Steve said into his comm, and Tony landed swiftly beside them. Bucky let him lift and move his arm.

‘We’ll have to take it off. I’ll call your neurosurgeon, this is way beyond what I can handle.’

Bucky nodded.

He had no idea how to tell them that he didn’t feel anything from the shoulder down. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing their reactions.

They got into a minivan that would take them to Stark Medical, and Steve’s arms finally sneaked around Bucky’s waist.

‘Let’s never do this again,’ he advised, and he was horribly white under the mask.

‘It wasn’t the Valkyrie,’ Bucky said. ‘We’re alive and in the same year as before.’

‘Yeah,’ but Steve looked pretty out of it, now that there wasn’t much for him to do.

‘I’ll fly after you,’ Sam offered through the comms.

‘Thanks.’

Tony clambered up as well with the suit grating loudly. ‘JARVIS is securing the data and doing the digital cleanup, and dr. Cho is on her way to Medical. Now, rotate your wrist for me, I need to localize the damage.’

Bucky swallowed. ‘I… can’t really do that.’

‘Hurts too much?’

‘It doesn’t hurt at all,’ Bucky whispered, and Steve’s arm spasmed around him, and the blue lights of the Iron Man eyelets snapped to his face.

‘Tell me I heard that wrong,’ Tony said, slowly.

‘I can’t feel it or move it,’ Bucky repeated.

‘Buck—’

‘Since when?’ the suit opened and Tony took Bucky’s arm into his bare hands. ‘Since when, Barnes?’

‘I could move it after Crossbones stabbed me but not feel it, and the movements just went away later.’

Tony’s horrified eyes confirmed Bucky’s fears.

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Steve’s voice was like quicksilver.

‘There was a battle to fight,’ Bucky said, and he was afraid, afraid like he had hardly been before, apart from the Valkyrie. He balled his right hand into a fist to cover his shaking, but now that Steve was paying attention he noticed the movement.

‘It’s gonna be fine, Bucky,’ Steve said, and he held onto Bucky’s right. ‘Right, Tony?’

Tony swallowed. ‘I need to detach the arm now, maybe we can save the nerve endings.’

‘Okay,’ Bucky agreed, and Tony cut his uniform sleeve to get to the prosthetic. The metal was a dull, burnt smoky color at the biceps, right where the stump ended underneath the sleeve and right where Crossbones stabbed him. Some plates were missing or bent, leaving sharp angles and cables poking out.

And it was as movable as dead wood.

‘Tell me if you feel anything,’ Tony said, and started disabling the arm. First there was nothing, just the void in his brain where the arm used to be. Then came a weird, tingling sensation, as if his arm had been asleep, and Bucky perked up, and hope blossomed on Steve’s face.

Then, without warning, the tingling got turned up to eleven, morphed into hot, blinding pain, and before Bucky could scream out in protest, blackness engulfed him.

~*~*~

Bucky's head was filled with white cotton pads. _Heavy_ white cotton pads and to the brink, based on how it was pushing at his skull from the inside.

But he was awake now, even if he didn't have it in him to open his eyes just yet, he could tell he was awake, and that was a step up from the nightmare. Bucky hated nightmares; hated how little actual sense they made once you woke up, hated how emotionally crushing they felt when you experienced them. Like right before he woke up, he dreamt about being at Zola's mercy, he dreamt that Zola cut off his whole left arm, and he waited for Steve to rescue him again in vain - not because Steve didn't come, but because when Steve came, he helped Zola keeping Bucky down.

A ridiculous, absolutely ludicrous dream, and yet Bucky's pulse quickened even as he recalled it. He had the feeling he had had other nightmares too and had woken up earlier as well, the way one might based on the tingling sense of the mind rather on actual factual evidence. The idea of going under again and experiencing something similar filled him with just as much terror as the idea of Steve turning _against_ him did.

Right. Time to reconcile with reality.

He opened his eyes with tremendous effort - all of him ached, not just his head, yay. And he was, unsurprisingly, in a hospital room with beeping machines and white walls. Yay again.

It took a few moments for the blurry picture to clear, for his eyes to adjust and his brain to accept the image fully. The last that registered was Steve at his right, with his head down on Bucky's bed, as if he hadn't left since Bucky was admitted.

If Bucky had the energy, he would've smiled fondly, but the most he could do was a twitch of his fingers.

Steve jerked right up and - he looked horrible. Disheveled, unshaven, in clothes that weren't his own, and with red eyes. Bucky's stomach dropped.

'Buck?' Steve croaked and reached out and Bucky flinched. _Stupid fucking nightmare._ Steve's face crumbled even more and tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled his hand back by his side, even clapped his other hand over it to prevent the motion again.

Stupid, _stupid fucking nightmare_. Bucky took a deep breath. 'Touch me?' he whispered, and Steve immediately latched onto Bucky's hand and sobbed into Bucky's neck. Which, _ouch_ , but still better than the kicked puppy earlier. Bucky managed to circle his thumb on Steve's hand as reassurance.

It probably took a long while for Steve to calm down, but Bucky had way to measure time as his foggy mind swam in and out of consciousness. Then Steve pulled back and Bucky was way too exhausted to decipher every emotion in his eyes, but he spotted fear and relief as the main forces.

'You want ice chips?'

Bucky nodded and his side felt empty when Steve left, but he was back in a heartbeat and ahhh, the cold freshness on Bucky's tongue was like heaven. His fingers spasmed on Steve's hand which was suddenly gripping Bucky again.

'I should call the doctors,' Steve said, and he pushed an annoying strand of hair from Bucky's face. Bucky leaned into his touch and fresh tears flew from Steve's eyes.

Bucky would've loved to go back to sleep but whatever was worrying Steve was probably bad enough that he should just stay awake and find out, so he willed himself to do so and nodded his head maybe half an inch. Steve wiped his nose on his sleeve as he left the room to call a doctor, and Bucky asked the ceiling for strength, in lieu of anything better to do.

The doc that came in next was a familiar figure to Bucky, even if he didn't recall her name, just that she had helped with Bucky's arm before.

'How are you feeling, Agent Barnes?'

Bucky blinked and grunted. She nodded in understanding. Steve stood at a corner and looked like he just saw his favorite pet die.

'Do you know what happened and where you are?'

Bucky gathered his strength. 'My arm. Cross...bones.' His eyes flashed at Steve and thank fuck for mindreading, because Steve was by his side with an ice chip in a heartbeat.

'Yes. You blacked out when your prosthesis was removed and were transported to Stark Medical,' she said, and studied his monitors. 'Do you remember anything else?'

Bucky jerked his head to the side maybe an inch. She turned towards him fully, and whatever else came, it wasn't good. Bucky could just tell.

'The socket of your prosthesis was severely injuring your stump underneath,' she said, her full attention on him. 'The damage was excessive and would've caused the loss of your nervous system in your shoulder, so we had had to remove it. Unfortunately...' her voice trailed off and then took on an even kinder level, 'we also had to amputate your arm just under the humeral tubercle. I'm sorry.'

Bucky's eyes flickered to his left, and - he had no idea how he hadn't noticed his own arm, _missing_. But it was, it _was_ missing, white bandages covered what little was left of it right under his shoulder. His breath quickened and Steve put his arm on Bucky's right.

'Can you... arm? Again?' Bucky asked, hoping his meaning came across, and she shook her head.

'We're not sure, at the moment. Besides the technicalities of attaching a new prosthesis to your torso, if the material gets damaged again this way, it would most likely kill you. But the most important now is that you rest and recover - we'll talk about the possibilities later.'

Okay. Okay.

He suspected he still had some drugs in his system because he wasn't freaking out. Not yet anyway. Or maybe it just hadn't sunk in yet.

She left and Steve had that awful look on him again. Hollow cheeks, dark circles, red eyes. And he stood about a foot away from Bucky's bed, again.

'C'mere,' Bucky whispered, and the next moment Steve was dampening the sheets again with crying into Bucky's hipbones. Bucky lifted his right arm, and right, now when he was moving he noticed the huge void on his left. He directed his attention to Steve instead: first put out the fire, then deal with the ruins. He laid his hand on Steve's neck and Steve sobbed harder.

'Shh, it's fine,' Bucky whispered. 'I can... live with... one arm.'

A lot of people managed. And Bucky was a supersoldier. He would super-manage.

Steve shook his head. 'It's my fault,' he whined, and it took a minute to register from under the snot and mufflement.

Bucky rolled his eyes. Typical, that Steve would chose this moment to be the martyr again, and also to stay stupid shit when Bucky didn't have the energy to smack him on the head. Still Bucky run his thumb in circles on Steve's neck.

'No.'

'It is, I—' Steve took a couple of breaths to control himself before he turned his head so that Bucky could see that the waterworks were still on. 'I had to hold you down,' he sounded like he had asthma again. 'You woke up and the anesthetics weren't working— and they were afraid they'd kill you— or  you just wouldn't wake up if they gave you more— and they called me in and I, I had to— I had to hold you down while they cut off your arm and you were screaming—'

Steve buried his face again.

Well.

So much for that nightmare only being a nightmare.

Which means that Bucky would recall the whole thing in full HD again, once his brain caught up to speed. And they'd also have new material for another lifetime of nightmares. Wonderful.

Also, thanks for dumping it on him right as he woke up. But he couldn't blame Steve for it - especially not while he looked so guilt-ridden by the events.

Maybe it was even better this way, off like a band-aid, no need for bottles to bottle it up while Bucky’s mind was still doing weird associations thanks to the drugs instead of going into panic mode.

He kept stroking Steve's neck until Steve run out of tears and his crying turned into dry hiccups.

'I would've done the same,' Bucky whispered, but at least it was in one go. Steve jerked away, and Bucky grabbed his hand. 'This ain't the end of the line. Punk.'

Steve's face scrunched up again, and Bucky didn't know where he got the effort, but he managed to scoot over to one side of the bed. Steve got on with the program, at least, and climbled in to plaster himself to Bucky's side, careful of the tubes and cables running everywhere. He curled around Bucky's right hand with half his body probably still off the bed and kept up the asthmatic wheezing, but that somehow still lulled Bucky back to unconsciousness.

~*~*~

The painkillers slowly left Bucky, and only Steve remained. As soon as Bucky was able to move his arm, he pulled Steve close and held him - looking at his stubbly, hollow face was much more pleasing than Bucky's left side, anyway.

With the residual drugs burnt out of his system, physical and mental agony returned.

This pain was almost as bad as when Crossbones had stabbed him, or that other guy the first time around - the fuckers - but he was regenerating faster than a human - the nurses changed bandages twice as often as normal, they told him. He still burned, though, and not just in his arm, but his whole body felt like a truck had run him over.

He reflexively tried smoothing the covers with his left, or wanted to scratch his nose with his unoccupied hand, before he realized he didn't have that anymore. It threw his mind into a loop every time and he constantly forgot, had to be reminded again, got shocked again, only for the circle to restart like a bad CD. Plus, as an added bonus, his mind still believed his whole left arm was in crushing fire, and Bucky had no way of convincing it to update the news. Other than staring at the lack of arm at his left, but that evoked new and unpleasant thoughts, so out of the fire, into the frying pan it was, almost literally.

What would he do without a functioning left arm. He had nothing but being a special agent and a baking hobbyist - one needed both arms to do either.

Well, maybe not. He could be a special adviser for SHIELD, his knowledge was worth more for SHIELD than to just fire him. That is, if they can indeed salvage SHIELD and purge HYDRA from the agency.

And he could get a normal prosthetic, one that isn't neurologically connected to his brain, and live his life with that.

But. He wouldn't be able to be Cap anymore. Or the Winter Soldier. Or to watch Steve's back in any other way.

That. That was what spent his mind down the tunnel every time. Steve. Out there. Without him.

He suddenly experienced what Steve's whole childhood must've felt like, what with the knowledge that physically, he would never be good enough. And also the lack of oxygen, Bucky's lungs not accepting the inhaled air. That must've been fun for Steve too.

He couldn't show it to Steve, though, any of it. Steve was already sagging under the guilt, and Bucky's heart broke every time he looked at him. He wanted to tell Steve to get normal, fitting clothes, shave, eat something, sleep in a normal bed, but. He desperately did not want to be alone. Not yet. Just, for a while now.

Please.

~*~*~

The next day after Bucky woke up, he was already sitting up halfway and Steve curled by his side again after the nurses’ last visit when Tony barged into the room. He stopped as soon as he took Bucky and Steve in, the both of them hardly even moving a muscle to look up, then put his hands on his hips.

'Who died for you to look like that?'

Steve's eyes narrowed. 'Fuck you, Tony.'

'No, I'm serious,' Tony came closer. 'You look like it's the end of the world. Like he won't be able to walk again,' he nodded at Bucky, still aiming his words at Steve. 'Or are you just planning to exchange him for a fresher model now that he won't be your sidekick anymore?'

Bucky couldn't breathe, mostly because Steve's arm tightened around his waist so much, and because this was so unlike Tony - so unlike his kind, understanding Tony and so much like the careless, heartless Iron Man—

And then Bucky got him and almost smiled.

'How dare you,' Steve snarled, fury burning the self-loathing out of his voice. 'How dare you even _think_ something like that - I would _never_ leave Bucky, no matter what happens—'

Something in Bucky relaxed again.

'Good,' Tony interrupted him. 'Then quit swallowing in misery and get the fuck to work.'

'I— What?'

Steve needed longer to get up to speed and Bucky nudged him. Steve cast his betrayed look onto Bucky.

'Get off of him and take a shower, it stinks in here,' Tony said. 'Sam's on his way with clean clothes and a surprise. I'll take over your night watch.'

'He's right, go,' Bucky agreed, relief flooding him - Steve would be okay with Sam and he wouldn't be left alone, Tony was a genius. He placed a kiss to Steve's nose as an extra measure. 'Bring me a toothbrush.'

Steve still looked way out of his depth but he leaned his forehead to Bucky's. 'I'll be back.'

'Of course you will,' Tony said. 'Out, now.'

The moment Steve was out the door, Tony sagged into a chair. 'God, Barnes, don't ever do that again.'

He sounded so broken; if Bucky's heart could've taken another break, it would've been for Tony. He also looked old, the oldest Bucky's ever seen him, and realistically he knew that Tony was older than him - in his forties, actually - but he never _acted_ like a man in his fourties. But now. Now Tony looked drained of energy. Washed-out.

'I'm sorry,' Bucky said. 'Thanks for taking care of Steve.'

'Yeah, don't mention it,' Tony rubbed his face, then waved. 'I swear to God my own heart almost stopped when you dropped. Rogers was no better - but he needs a shower, seriously.'

Bucky nodded in full agreement.

'And we also need you two back in the game as soon as possible. I'd let you sit out of the cleanup, really, if I thought sitting around aimlessly would help either of you, but...' Tony sighed again, then shrugged and began unbuttoning his henley. Bucky's eyes widened in alarm, but Tony just pulled the neck down, and also pulled another cover off of his chest to reveal a round, glowing piece of _something_ in his chest.

'What... Tony, what?'

A wry smile curled up Tony's lips. 'This is an ARC-reactor. I built it myself, it keeps me alive. You know I was held hostage in Afghanistan for a while, right?'

'Right,' Bucky said, although he didn't, not really - when he looked up Tony after their very first meeting, there were some articles about him being at the mercy of terrorists, but. Nothing in detail. Nothing that would suggest - whatever Tony had in his chest. ARC-reactor?

'Right, so. One of my own missiles exploded right next to me and this thing,' he ticked the metal with his fingernails, 'keeps the shrapnel from reaching my heart. It also powers the suit.'

'I thought that was a separate system, like War Machine,' Bucky dumbly said.

'His is, mine isn't. So. What I'm trying to say is, I know what it's like to wake up with a different body than the one you're used to. Especially when that happened without your consent. And not having something to focus on, something to work towards? That is the worst that can happen, trust me. So, you and him, back on the field ASAP.'

Tears rolled down on Bucky's cheeks, and he felt so overwhelmed and so shitty, for feeling so miserable for himself when Tony had to go through so much. 'I don't know what I'll do,' he whispered, and Tony hugged him and let him let it all out: sobs for his lost arm, sobs for _how_ he lost his arm, sobs for the last few days in general, sobs because of an uncertain future, because Nazis, because he was already missing Steve more than the arm.

Tony rubbed his forearm and held him until Bucky’s tears finally dried up, and then came the reassurance.

'Even if we can't make your arm happen again, we won't leave you behind. And your fiancé loves you too, no matter what. He even stayed here instead of destroying sandbags or conducting a manhunt after Crossbones.'

'I know, I know, just—' Bucky wiped his eyes. He would marvel on Steve staying behind later. 'I'm sorry, for yours as well.'

'Eh,' Tony buttoned the henley up, and whatever cover he used, that also prevented the light from seeping out. 'I got used to it. We are a messed up brunch anyway.'

'We are,' Bucky agreed. He threw his only arm around himself, and now his hand was dangerously close to the stump. He contemplated for a while, then covered the bandage with his hand.

'It's gonna be hard, but we'll get through it,' Tony promised, and Bucky - through his fresh round of tears - decided to believe him.

~*~*~

Steve came back with Sam in tow, looking a fraction more alive than when he left, though he still clung to Bucky like he was afraid of Bucky vanishing into thin air. That was fine as now Bucky could actually _move_ \- his catheters and most of the tubes were removed, so only the general anguish of his body prevented him doing anything, except to embrace Steve tightly.

'I see the beard remains,' Bucky noted.

'I— I couldn't shave, I'm sorry,' Steve mumbled, and Bucky just held him closer.

'But at least he ate,' Sam said, and Bucky's gratefulness skyrocketed when it turned out that Sam got their dogs back from Craig, too. Another knot loosened in his stomach when he could bury his hand in the well-known fur and breathe in the typical bad dog-breath, and Steve smiled at him for the first time since Bucky regained consciousness, albeit weakly.

'Are they even allowed here?' Bucky asked, but Tony just shrugged.

'As long as my name is on their paycheck, whatever I say is allowed, not to mention that with your super immune system, infection or contamination isn't really an issue we have to worry about.'

~*~*~

They discharged Bucky from the hospital wing that afternoon with the promise that he would be back daily for checkups. His doctor, dr. Cho, organized a meeting for a few days later about prosthetic options, and Bucky also needed to do physiotherapy, but at least he moved up a few floors with Steve to one of Tony's guest suites.

Moving itself proved to be somewhat of a challenge. Bucky ached all over, but he could ignore that when it was needed. He was, however, horribly unbalanced - he knew from experience it would take a few days to get used to the newfound onesidedness. Until then it would be bumping into doors, carrying himself as if someone taped a few dozen pounds to his right side, and generally feeling like shit.

A stone weighed his stomach down at the thought of not having a functional left arm again.

Steve kept close to him, but it spoke volumes about their situation that he wasn’t giving Bucky one of his trademark encouragement speeches. God, Bucky hoped that Tony’d keep the intro down and he could climb into a hole, preferably with Steve.

‘...and we can remodel this into a studio, but for now it’s another bedroom, or you can use it for agility purposes,’ Tony was saying about the _third_ bedroom, petting Mary’s head absentmindedly, for once not complaining about his vertical challenges in life. ‘If you want to order tunnels for the dogs, loops, benches or whatever just speak to JARVIS, he’ll put your order through, I’ve been meaning to remodel anyway…’

Steve was on the verge of interrupting Tony, Bucky could see, when JARVIS made a sound that would’ve been a clearing of throat on a human.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt, Sir, but I think Agent Rogers and Agent Barnes are qualified to discover the incredible complexity of their accomodation without aid,’ he said, voice drier than the Sahara.

Tony almost chastised him when he met Bucky’s eyes and Bucky smiled at him apologetically.

‘Also, Miss Potts asked me to notify that the Avengers and Director Fury, Commander Hill and Agent Coulson are en route to the Tower.’

Steve tensed beside Bucky. 'Could you derail them?' he asked Tony.

'...yeah, sure.'

'I gotta... Buck, can I talk to you.'

Bucky nodded. Tony clasped his hands. ‘All right, kids, have fun while I entertain the adults.’

Steve rolled his eyes, but at least they were alone.

'What is it?'

Bucky had the feeling that Steve had no idea what to do with his body - where to look, how to stand.

'I know what Fury will want from me - from Cap.'

'Good press,' Bucky nodded. He wanted to sit onto the floor, but the idea of balancing almost sent his brain down a spiral he desperately did not want to go down - not before talking to the doc about prosthetic prospects. So instead he went for the couch, thankful for the arm-rest, and Isaac immediately huddled to his side.

'I know— this is just—' Steve ran his hand through his hair. 'The worst time. And I wouldn't bring it up if Fury— but he will want to use Cap. The only problem is... I think Cap has done more than enough.'

Bucky petted Isaac rhythmically. 'I hope that doesn't include my arm, 'cause that's not on Cap.'

Steve just pursed his lips in a very telling way.

'Steve, seriously - if you want to logic blame, then the blame should be on me. I pissed Crossbones off as the Winter Soldier.'

'It doesn't work like that.'

'Yet it works like that for Cap?' But before Steve could answer, Bucky went on. 'Steve. I'm hella tired. I want to curl up with you and sleep for a week. Save the "it's all my fault" routine for after that, okay, and just spill what's on your mind?'

Something flashed in Steve's eyes and that something looked like steel.

'Cap won't play in Fury's propaganda again.'

His voice had such finality in it that Bucky swallowed. 'You want to fight with Fury too? Isn't HYDRA enough at once?'

'It's not like that.' Steve sat down on the other side of the couch, cross legged, with his hands in his lap. Bucky had a flashback to their last conversation about SHIELD, but before he lost himself in the memory, Steve went on.'If I thought that Cap was helping I would never want to stop. And he was, he was helping for a while, I took up the mantle for a reason. But I don't think that's the case anymore.'

There was a very important bit in that sentence that caught Bucky's attention. 'Steve... do you want to stop now?'

Steve sighed. 'I want to stop being _this_ Cap.'

Well. Wow. 'You said something like this before we took out the Helicarriers.'

'Yeah.’ Steve sighed. ‘I realized... Cap, this Cap is not someone I'm comfortable portraying anymore.'

'Okay.'

'Okay?' Steve asked, the _that’s it?_ clearly implied in his tone.

'I feel too compromised to say anything,' Bucky said honestly. He let his head drop back to the back of the couch.

‘Okay,’ Steve repeated, then covered Bucky's hand with both of his. 'I'm sorry, I wouldn't— I shouldn't, this is a horrible time, but you're right, I shouldn't make decisions for you and this concerns both of us. I had to ask you.'

'I appreciate it,’ Bucky said. ‘And I got your six, no matter what.'

Even if not literally.

Maybe that showed on his face because Steve nudged Isaac away to make room for himself and hug Bucky. 'I don't care if you can never have a prosthetic again,' he muttered.

'I may need to hear that a few times,' Bucky whispered.

'I'm great at not giving up things, so no trouble,' Steve smiled, and Bucky decided Steve's shoulders were much better headrests than any cushion.

'Since when? About Cap?' Bucky asked, still in an almost-whisper. This was nice. The quiet, with Steve. Always with Steve.

Steve stroked his side lazily. 'A while.' Bucky grunted, and Steve correctly understood that as a request to continue. 'I... never liked Cap. I liked him more than you did, though,' and Steve nudged Bucky a bit, almost teasing. Bucky relaxed. 'But it was a tool. They said I could help with selling bonds, so I did even though I hated it. The front, though... I shouldn't say I liked the front. And I didn't. But I was finally doing what I always dreamed of doing. I was with you. I had my own unit - I liked being with the Howlies, I liked physically taking out the enemy and Cap helped me doing all of those.'

To be fair, Bucky himself didn't mind that part of the war. When he was away from Steve and watched men die left and right, sure, he hated that. So did everybody else. And when he was at Zola’s hands. That sucked too. And he thought Steve would leave him, now that Bucky’s body was that broken, almost as broken as his mind, while Steve walked an Adonis among men, for Agent Carter. But then Steve stayed with him and they had the Howlies and for a few months, they were the kings of the world and they were going to defeat the Nazis and HYDRA and win the war.

'This century, though...' Steve trailed off bitterly. 'The ground was pulled out from me, and Cap. Cap was the only familiar thing for a while.'

Bucky's hand spasmed in Steve and Steve squeezed it. 'I know. I was an idiot. But I felt so out of depth when I thought I lost my only stable compass in my life - you. I thought I lost your trust and now I know better but then, back then I was running away in fear. And I was... I was running to Cap. Wow, this sounds so stupid.'

But it didn't; in fact it was exactly how it felt to Bucky too. Almost like Steve left him for Captain America. 'No. I get it.'

Steve let out a long breath. 'And then, you know. They let me fight, they needed me and I thought, “ _hey, this isn't so bad after all, it's like with the Howlies”_. Except now everybody had this image of Cap in their head and that wasn't _my_ image. When I found out that politicians and the like tried to use Cap to make America more bigoted and old-fashioned... And I tried to change that. You know my blog, you know I took part in every campaign SHIELD allowed Cap in. But it just never worked. I'm thinking that if you hadn't taken up the shield I would've given up much earlier.'

It took Bucky long, long moments to collect his jaw from the floor.

'You never give up,' he finally said.

'Maybe not, but I'm letting go. Sam's been calling out my running away from you into the fray for a long time, so it's not like I didn't see it coming. I just took my sweet time to accept.'

What. What—

No. Bucky didn't have the energy for that. Not yet.

'And I know I'm such a hypocrite because I didn't tell you and yet I was giving you shit... I would've given up the mantle if you told me to, and for a while I honestly thought the two of us as Cap, that was the best that could’ve happened even though I know you despised Cap. But I wanted to get there on my own.'

'I didn't want you to despise Cap.'

'Which is how we know my feelings aren't your influence's results,' Steve nuzzled his hair.

'Don't you want to be a superhero anymore?'

'I don't know?' Steve sighed. 'I was working for Nazis for _years_. I don't know.'

Bucky snorted. 'Yeah. Talk about trust issues.'

'Let's not,' Steve advised.

They sat in silence for half a minute.

‘Wait. You took the suit with us… you wanted this to be Cap’s last mission when Fury left you the mission.’

‘...maybe,’ Steve said tentatively. ‘I was hoping for an out, maybe.’

Maybe, Bucky’s ass.

But at least he knew this way that Steve really wasn’t doing it for him.

‘We really should talk about you being casually suicidal,’ he said. ‘Even if only as a superhero.’

‘I’m not suicidal,’ Steve countered. ‘Not when I’m with you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I was sorry.
> 
> I know there are many threads hanging, but rest assured I'll get to those in the oncoming chapters :) 
> 
> About Bucky's arm: I tried doing my research, I really did, but his arm is just not scientifically possible and I couldn't apply real science to it. Therefore suspension of disbelief required, I guess ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯... or shall i say ¯\\_(ツ)_ :D 
> 
> Feedback keeps me alive so please tell me your thoughts!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath is never easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am TERRIBLY sorry for the late update -- this chapter was.not.cooperating.with.me. Like, I knew I'd have to do a lot of editing at this point but man, I never anticipated the _headache_. I had to rewrite it like three times and it still isn't what I wanted but at this point I have to let it go.
> 
> I would never have been able to do it without the always-amazing [@menatiera](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/) who pointed out all the flaws and then offered solutions as to how to make them better. Thank you, my dear <3

Pepper was pacing back and forth when Bucky and Steve stepped out of the elevator after having collected themselves from Cap’s probable death sentence.

‘Oh, I was so worried,’ she said anxiously, even twisting her fingers. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m fine,’ Bucky said, knowing he’d have to repeat that a lot in the following months.

‘So you, um,’ Steve began, ‘how much did Tony, um, tell you? About the, you know, accident?’

If Bucky didn’t need his one remaining arm to hold onto Mary’s fur he would’ve facepalmed because _real subtle, Rogers._

‘I know about you two being Captain America,’ Pepper waved, finally back in her comfort zone. ‘And about you being the Winter Soldier.’

'Wow, Tony is really bad at keeping secrets,' Bucky said while Steve gaped.

'Only when he should keep those from me. But Agent Coulson approved my knowing of the Avengers, if that helps' Pepper said, and there was more to it, Bucky could tell, but his curiosity vanished with his arm, it seemed. Or maybe he just really needed some rest.

Pepper probably saw that and cast a look upon Bucky that his sister used to, whenever she wanted a hug. Bucky nodded, and she stepped forward to embrace him, and somehow that hug put a missing place back into its right place.

~*~*~

The Avengers were lounging in the common living room, sans Tony, masks and uniforms. Seeing them in civilian clothes had Bucky's mind somersaulting, especially given the variety - Thor was in a hoodie and sweatpants, for instance, right next to a sharp business suit worn by Pym. But at least Bucky wasn't the only one sporting a lazy outfit, even if nobody else had to tuck their sleeve back into the torso.

They let Bucky and Steve sit on the same couch and Bucky leaned against Steve thankfully. The dogs turned out to be fan-favorites especially with Barton, and they provided a good security blanket for Bucky while simultaneous driving the attention away from him - because, of course, everybody had been worried about him and wanted an in-depth update on his situation.

It was. Sweet. Only Bucky’s not really been used to being the center of attention unless wearing Cap’s helmet.

‘How’s everybody?’ he asked after saying he was fine for the fifth time.

As it turned out, Barton's hearing aids also malfunctioned, but nothing that hadn't already been fixed. And Pierce took a piece of Nat before Fury shot him, but other than that, Bucky's arm was the biggest casualty, something they were keen on assuring.

'And what did I miss? Where’s Tony?'

‘Keeping the Director and the Commander away,’ Pepper said, and then JARVIS activated the flatscreen to show a montage. That had everybody finding a piece of furniture to sit on, in, on lean against, and Bucky quietly applauded the AI.

'World leaders demand answers after Director Fury came back from the dead and verified the files released earlier, all detailing Nazi involvement in the superhero agency and the downfall of Alexander Pierce, Secretary of the State,' a news anchor said. 'Pieces of the Helicarrier are still being fished out from the Potomac, and there's no word on Captain America or what will happen to SHIELD at this point.'

'SHIELD cannot be trusted if they let Nazis take control!' another proclaimed.

'SHIELD is the only thing to prevent such a thing from happening again!' a third declared.

The running tabs on the bottom of the screen had lines like "DIRECTOR FURY NOT DEAD", "HYDRA CORRUPTED AMERICAN AGENCIES", and "SECRETARY SECRETLY A NAZI". But at least Fury was back on top to take care of some of the mess - Bucky approved. Can't kill you if you're already dead is nice and well, but when you want to find out who _else_ might want to kill you you need to show yourself. Besides, SHIELD needed a strong leader and while Hill and Coulson were good, Fury was the best. He found out about HYDRA in the first place, after all.

'We're releasing the  files that demonstrate further that SHIELD was compromised after JARVIS makes sure they're not containing sensitive information,' Pepper added at the end. 'We're ensuring that who's helping us isn't HYDRA and our primary sources are people on the death list, and they have to reinforce faith in SHIELD. It did shield us, after all.'

Steve grunted in a very condescending manner.

So apparently they didn't defeat HYDRA, not altogether, they just hindered their plan of murdering a few million people. Then came the cleanup, both metaphorically and literally. And, judging by the looks of it, the literal part may have been the easier, huge metal bits littering the Potomac notwithstanding.

'Plus we have to retroactively oversee everything - we don't know how many people in the Raft were rightfully imprisoned and how many were just victims of HYDRA, for instance. Same with missions, but of course putting out the fire first is priority. In short, this is a bureaucratic nightmare,’ Pepper finished.

‘What can we do?’ Bucky asked, and Steve tensed.

Pepper gave them a long, considering look. ‘I’ll tell Tony to let our guests up and we can discuss it together.’

~*~*~

Fury, Coulson and Hill seemed unperturbed by Tony having them wait. Well, they looked stormy, but no more than usual, and Fury waltzed in remarkably well for someone who could barely stand two days prior, though his left arm was still in a sling. Bucky heavily envied him.

'Captain, Soldier,' Fury looked at them, and Steve remained seated by Bucky's side instead of jumping to a parade's rest. 'SHIELD would like to thank you for your service.'

Steve did not say anything about "duty" and "responsibility", and even if hadn't told Bucky about his plan of being done with Cap, Bucky would've picked on his anger. 'Do we have any intel on Crossbones?'

'No body was found, and we are still recovering the footage from the Helicarriers. But we have bigger things to focus on.' Fury tried to glare at Steve, but even despite their spacial positions, Steve remained steady and unruffled. 'We have to re-establish SHIELD.'

'I'm guessing that doesn't involve shooting,' Barton said from a loveseat, massaging Nat's feet.

'No. It involves intelligence and screening. We have to prevent a witch hunt yet still flush out HYDRA.'

Fury sat down too - resurrection took its toll on people, apparently.

'Well I've already encrypted special agent files to keep superheroes safe,' Tony said, more for the sake of Steve and Bucky than anything else. 'JARVIS is analyzing suspicious behavior, looks for red flags and whatnot, and until you have trustworthy personnel we can lend some from SI. All ours have been thoroughly screened for safety purposes.'

'We accept that,' Fury said. 'I get this weird twitching thing in my eye every time I think about HYDRA getting their hands on experimental weaponry logged into evidence and the like.'

'That takes care of the bureaucratic side of the job,' Coulson joined in. 'But public trust has never been so low in SHIELD's history since it's foundation.'

'Gosh, I wonder why,' Banner murmured.

'There's quite a backlash against superheroes, which might be an issue,' Hill said, ignoring Banner. 'People are afraid their next door neighbors are superheroes secretly working for HYDRA.'

'We can give shelter to verifiably not-HYDRA superheroes in the meantime, including the Avengers,' Tony added. 'We have enough floors and the secret underground entrance was made for just such an occasion.'

'Did you seriously prepare for a Nazi infestation?' Pym asked him.

'I prepared for an _emergency_ ,' Tony said indignantly, 'whatever form that may come in, as long as it resulted in superheroes needing sanctuary.'

'And this comes on the biggest scale possible,' Hill said. 'The people are losing trust, because if they can't trust the Secretary of State, then who _can_ they trust?'

Yeah, Bucky seconded that. And also saw where all this was going, and sure enough—

'We need to make people ask the real questions instead of going about scapegoating superheroes, and for that, Cap, we need you to shave,' Fury said. 'Captain America can put a stop to the mass hysteria, especially if we emphasize the Avengers and their role in taking down HYDRA—'

'Would it help if I unmasked?' Steve, uncharacteristically, interrupted him.

The room went quiet.

'How do you mean if you unmasked,' Fury said, not like someone who did not hear or understand what was said, but as someone who hoped to have heard wrong.

'You said people don't know who to trust. Would that change if they saw the "heroes" are under the mask?' Steve elaborated and Bucky could hear the air quotes in his question.

'I don't think so,' it was Pepper who recovered first enough to answer. 'It would calm the uproar for an hour before everyone started demanding that every other superhero unmasks as well.'

'And it would diminish from the symbol's power which we really need in our court right now,' Coulson added.

Steve hummed.

'Political suicide is still suicide, man,' Sam muttered lowly.

'Captain America needs to issue a statement,' Hill said, looking at Steve. 'Your Captain has a way of getting to people. Your speech was really successful with SHIELD and the negative backlash against him is minimal with the public after the additional files got released.'

But Steve shook his head. 'I don't exactly see it that way,' he said.

'You wanna argue statistics with a computer? Jay, bring it up.'

An invisible screen lit up in the middle of the room and JARVIS pulled up charts and diagrams to show the statistics. Based on primary online content (blog posts, videos, tweets), secondary online content (comments, reactions, reblogs), TV appearances, polls and questionnaires, even street activity (protests and graffitis) and Cap merchandise sale - Cap's popularity could easily be tracked. It dropped considerably when SHIELD issued the wanted warning, then gained some points after his video message went viral only to skyrocket with the leaked files.

'That's a useful way of testing the waters,' Banner said after a few moments.

'You have been a symbol fighting against these evil foes for a long time, if my understanding is correct,' Thor said. 'People need something familiar to lean on.'

'Not everyone finds me a symbol they see fitting,' Steve said. 'JARVIS, would you show my blog? That recent argument— ah yes, thank you.'

The screen loaded and - 'You have a tumblr?' Lang asked in disbelief.

'It's a great way of engaging with people,' Steve shrugged.

It was, Bucky could attest to that, although he rarely used his own anymore. The food community and the art fandom were different, anyway, and he had other blogs he and his acquaintances preferred.

Steve, of course, _loved_ to keep in touch with art enthusiasts online. Said it gave him a way to hear what people really thought instead of being narrowed down to critics. Whatever floated his boat, Bucky supposed and left him to his morning scrolling while he himself sat down with a book.

It turned out, however, that Steve wasn't using his blog to only strictly talk about his own art. As he was quite vocal about his opinion on social matters half of the discussion in forms of asks and reblogs consisted of rage-filled but still very eloquent arguments about, amongst other things, vaccination, migration control, abortion, net neutrality, and (completely unsurprisingly) Captain America.

The discussion JARVIS pulled up was a series of reblogs of people who didn't attack Cap outright but questioned his relevance under an article featuring Cap speaking about racial equality.

Bucky remembered that article. Steve had been seething for a week because he wasn't allowed to wear his Black Lives Matter T-Shirt over his uniform.

**women-in-stemmm**

 

 

>   tonight on the no-one cares show: another straight white dude tells the world whats up with the minorities 

**notyourordinaryasyan**

 

 

>  THIS^

**supportsuperheroes616**

 

 

>  okay **@women-in-stemm** i get ya but srly cap fought nazis in wwii i think he knows whatup with minorities

**cptn-colored-america**

 

 

>  cap is a good ally

**notyourordinaryasyan**

 

 

>  yes cap might be a good ally but he is still a privileged white dude. when we're talking about minority issues (and this isn't just about being POC, it goes for being a woman or LGBTQ+ or  anything really) he is an outsider perspective. and he is supportive, i get and appreciate that, but he still doesn't have first-hand experience with a lot of things. but at least he doesn't talk down to us.

**hboblovebb**

 

 

>  what she said^ i hate when superheroes pretend to understand every problem in the world. it's easy to pretend to support a cause when you don't even show your face

**dananana29**

 

 

>  the real problem, i think, is that cap's voice is the loudest in this particular matter and not, say, Power Man's or Storm's. cap is a great ally, and we need strong allies who believe us and in us even without having first-hand experience about what we're talking about (although have you seen how he talks about struggling families? i think he has some experience there, especially if what they say about his age is true). but those voices should be on the side, not taking up all the spotlight from people who have _actual experience_.

**hboblovebb**

 

 

>  also don't forget its all marketing. he represent a corporation and sure they save the world but they need good PR. he takes money home from saying he believes in a trendy cause even if he doesn't actually believe it

Steve then had JARVIS pull up a picture of Cap's mask graffitied to a wall with the words _fascist_.

Then another, a photo manip of the shield painted in rainbow colors instead of the standard red white and blue, with the caption "if only".

Articles and posts and videos and photos, hundreds of them, all made to the same theme - Cap isn't what we need.

Bucky expected Steve's knuckles to be white but instead found him relaxed, almost nonchalant as he instructed Jarvis through this presentation.

'The minorities are called minorities for a reason, Cap. They're the minority,' Tony said.

Steve's eyes flashed dangerously. 'So what, their voice doesn't matter?'

'I didn't say that, but just because some people aren't satisfied with you doesn't mean you can't do enough!'

'But I can't do enough for them!' Steve gestured at the screen. 'Don't you see? If we put together the minorities they actually become the majority!'

'You can't represent everybody,' Coulson put in matter of factly.

'No, but they - these people think I don't get queer struggles, for example, while I'm actually from the twenties and am _engaged to a man_!' Steve said. 'I'm part of multiple minorities and _nobody knows_!'

'What are you saying,' Fury asked. 'You want us to repaint your shield?'

Steve sent a distasteful look towards the weapon in question. 'I'm saying that I don't think you're right, that Cap can restore SHIELD's esteem after this. Not in his current form, at least. He - the people may have seen Cap as a strength of hope once, back during the war, but these are different times. I think we— I think _they_ need a new symbol.'

This had kind of been their argument right before this meeting, but not exactly. The others scratched their heads.

'So you _do_ want us to repaint the shield? You want to come out as... gay, at least, even without unmasking?' Tony asked.

'I'm not gay, but that's not the point. Actually, I wanted - well, Bucky and I both wanted to come out.'

'Absolutely not,' Fury said with a force that would have had saner men backing up instantly.

Not Steve though. 'Why not?'

Well, so it seemed that Steve was okay working on as a superhero on his own terms, which was an improvement to the earlier "burn SHIELD to the earth" mentality. Bucky himself tried to ignore the ever-growing stone in his stomach at the idea of Steve taking on the stars and stripes again - he hadn't realized the extent of his relief when Steve mentioned putting the shield down until the table turned again.

But maybe he would get an arm, they still had to talk to the doc, and he wouldn't be watching Steve run into danger from the sideline.

Bucky mentally shook himself - one problem at a time, Barnes, focus. Coming out issues first.

'Because that's not how the world works,' Fury said, visibly keeping himself calm. 'You are not an ambiguous celebrity or someone with an existing same-sex friendship people could speculate about—'

'—not since Bucky became Cap instead of the Winter Soldier,' Steve fired back, and - _wait, what?_

'—and your coming out would alienate your loyal traditional supporters _and_ take the attention away from the _actual_ problem at hand, which is the literal Nazis in SHIELD,' Fury finished with a raised voice.

'You realize Nazis had pink triangles too, right? Us standing up against them is the literally oppressed taking back control!'

'Your narrative hasn't been about the oppressed standing up since you got the serum,' Fury said. 'You became an equal opponent to HYDRA, someone who would've been allowed to join them, had you wanted that.’ Steve made a sound, halfway between protesting and horrified, and Bucky let go of Mary's fur in favor of putting his hand on his fiancé's leg while Fury continued. ‘Your choice not to do that made the difference, and that narrative is way too late to change now.'

'What do you say to this,' Tony turned to Bucky, maybe to prevent Steve exploding - but if so, he didn't know Steve as well as he believed. Despite his words and his tone Steve still set calmly: he had made up his mind, Bucky knew, and was just testing the waters. He would not be swayed by either Fury or Tony, or indeed, Bucky.

'Unless it's jumping out of planes without a parachute kind of crazy, I'm with Steve,' Bucky said.

'Oh God, we're done,' Sam groaned.

'It's kinda that kind of crazy, but only metaphorically?' Steve offered. 'Cap's not enough as a symbol against oppression and bullying anymore because he resembles those oppressors and bullies too much. So if you say Cap can't change, then I say that Cap shouldn't be, anymore.'

'Shouldn't be what anymore?' Barton asked in the total stillness of the room.

'At all,' Steve shrugged, and Lang's mouth opened into a soft O.

'...That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard from you and I have heard a lot,' Fury said.

'You've faked your death, why couldn't we fake Cap's?'

Fury and Tony groaned at the same time. Hill's, Coulson's and Pepper's faces mirrored the same disbelief. The rest of the team followed the conversation as one would a tennis match.

'For starters, Captain America isn't yours.'

Steve sat up taller. 'The hell he isn't. I created Cap back in '43 when I walked into Austria and liberated a POW camp. But people don't remember that because so many things have happened that now they think he's just a symbol for whatever oppressing body of power happens to be on top. I say to fight against HYDRA you need someone more diverse than a blond, white and for all intents and purposes straight male in red, white and blue.'

'What about your SO, you share Cap with him,' Fury gritted.

Steve turned to Bucky who felt all eyes in the room on him.

'I never liked Cap,' Bucky said, and many pairs of eyes were round as plates. 'Why do you think I picked up the shield in the first place?'

'...for freedom, justice, and the American way?' Tony asked.

Bucky shook his head. 'Because Cap had to save everybody all the time, and Steve couldn't have done that all by himself, it would've tore him apart, so once when Cap was needed and Steve had... well...'

'It's alright,' Steve smiled at him. 'I had to meet up with a journalist who wanted an article about my webcomic. My pager rang when I was just putting my shoes on to leave, and Bucky said—'

'—I said I'd take the call, you should meet that journalist, Cap shouldn't ruin Steve's life all the time.'

'And I did,' Steve said.

'You can't carry the weight of the world alone,' Bucky said. 'And neither can I, or even us together, and that's why I insisted we needed a third guy.'

'You what now,' Barton said.

'Oh, so that's what those others were doing in the suit,' Nat said.

Fury just furrowed his brows grimly.

'So to answer your question,' Bucky said, 'I'd be happy to never wear the stars and stripes again.'

Fury's brows furrowed even more.

'There's no way you could sit still though,' Tony pointed at Steve. 'Buckaroo has his other alias, what will you do while he fights? Learn to knit?'

'I do already know how to knit, thank you, and I can always find another alias for myself. Another symbol which is inclusive of otherness, for instance. Maybe we could even fight side by side for once.'

Bucky found his own face mirroring the tentative smile on Steve's, regardless of missing arms.

'That is all fine and dandy for you, but what happens to this country without the hero who was named after it?' Tony asked.

'JARVIS, if Captain America died now, can you predict some reactions?'

'Calculating, Captain.'

Everyone in the room held their collective breaths.

'Historical records show that a hero's last message is better received shall the hero fall in a winning battle,' JARVIS said. ‘Last words are also frequently used to highlight a person’s personality, and can retroactively color certain aspects of their life.’

He showed articles and quotes in quick, but consumable succession: Nathan Hale, and his will to serve his country. Patrick Henry and his desire for liberty. Caesar and his disappointment in the ones he trusted. The list went on and on, including fictional and historical figures, all underlining Steve’s stance on the matter.

‘The last time Captain America presumably died against fighting Nazis and HYDRA, the then Agent Carter founded SHIELD in his memory,’ Jarvis conclued. ‘Should Captain America “die” in his last battle against HYDRA again,’ and Bucky felt the air quotes, ‘then as a result of modern technology, his last message would reach billions, and the emotional aspect of knowing how his story ends immediately after would be a powerful motivator for many to honour him, and fight against the oppressors.’

JARVIS allowed a moment of silence before he finished with, ‘Not to mention that the re-foundation of SHIELD starting again with Captain America’s death would give almost unprecedented narrative parallel to the agency, thus enabling new possibilities about capitalizing his memory.’

A self-satisfied smirk pulled Steve's lips upwards while Tony looked hilariously put-out. 'Oh, c'mon,' he said. 'I wanted to fight side by side with you since I found out you're Cap!'

'We can still do that, Tony, just not with Cap.'

'You know this would be better for them,' Pepper kissed Tony's temple and Tony sighed dramatically and nodded. 'And it looks like it would be good for the world as well.'

'Hang on,' Fury interjected. 'We haven't agreed to anything.'

'You don't really have to,' Steve said. 'Superheroes can retire any time. We can't use our powers outside of SHIELD authorized missions but there's nothing making us _using_ them in the first place.'

'We can refuse your next identity, whatever that'll be,' Hill said.

'You'd be a fool to, though,' Lang said. Hill sent him a look and he quivered but added, 'I mean look at him!'

'And how would we have Cap die when he clearly made it out alive from the Helicarrier?' Coulson, forever the practical, asked.

'We'll figure something out,' Steve said. 'And either way Cap's not making an appearance until Bucky's back on his feet.'

Bucky stared at him but Steve just shrugged.

Fury rubbed his face after heaving in a deep sigh. 'All right, fine. We can discuss it tomorrow, and until then we'll say he was wounded in the field.'

Bucky wanted to ask many things - scratch that. He wanted to know many things, like what was the intel on Crossbones, did Steve really plan to have Cap out of the game, why Sam had that unhappily pondering expression on his face, where Nat hid her weapons underneath her tight jeans and even tighter top, but it could wait. They could all wait.

Fury and Co. left, the Team accepted Tony’s floors as a temporary resting place, and Bucky basically fell into bed, throwing his jacket and sweatpants to the side and not even bothering to pull the covers back onto himself. He heard Steve feeding the dogs, and probably organize someone taking them for a walk because a few minutes later Steve was by his side. Bucky immediately curled into him, burrowing in those arms, and within one heartbeat and the next he was out.

~*~*~

Bucky woke up sweating, with a start, while flashes of his nightmare still lingered in his mind. Steve's arm still around his waist felt like a cage, like he was being restrained again, like in the nightmare, like in the _memory_ of three days ago, and Bucky shoved it away while grasping at his own left, only to find void, because of course there was nothing there—

'Buck?'

Bucky was already at the far end of the room, flushed to the wall with his back, his one arm protectively hugging his abdomen when Steve clicked the light on.

'Ah, Buck,' Steve said, face devastated, and Bucky crumpled at the sight. His legs couldn't keep him up, anymore, but the floor was good too, it meant a lapful of Daisy and a whiny Mary, and that was so good.

Steve stood, still disoriented from the maybe three hours of sleep they've gotten - the worst amount, really, even nothing would've been better - but didn't come closer. 'What did you—'

'The operation,' Bucky muttered. 'I'm starting to remember.'

Somehow seeing Steve devoid of his reassured "everything will be fine because I will make it so" attitude was worse than the doubting voices screaming inside his own head, so Bucky closed his eyes.

'Pain, and blood on metal, and... your arm, and those white hospital lights,' and Bucky hoped to never recall more - he probably wouldn't get the whole thing, though. He may not have been awake for all, not that these mosaics were any better.

He opened his eyes to the noise of Steve, too, falling to his knees, and with one movement Bucky directed Isaac to Steve.

'How do they still listen to you,' Steve murmured, and that was good, distraction and normalcy in the crazy was good.

'I did actually train them,' Bucky said, and the breathing bodies full of fur and saliva slowly eased him back from the nightmare. Or at least to a reality he could control. 'Sorry for waking you.'

Steve huffed. 'Sorry for holding you down while the docs amputated you,' he said.

Bucky heaved in a deep breath. 'Note for the future, Rogers, if I have a nightmare and have a hard time telling the past from the present, maybe don't try to help by bringing it up?'

Steve swallowed. 'Sorry. I'm so sorry, Bucky, for everything.'

'So am I,' Bucky agreed.

'If you want I can go and sleep elsewhere,' Steve offered. 'There's plenty of beds—'

'No,' Bucky rushed to say. 'Please don't.'

'Okay.'

A few minutes later Bucky was ready to stand up, and his first trip led to the bathroom - experience had taught him that cold water to the face and a steady brushing of teeth would do wonders. Then he gestured for Steve to join him in bed, again, not that either of them knew how to handle this particular kind of hell. They always migrated towards each other and woke up tangled more often than not, even when they weren't even technically together.

Bucky tried curling around Steve, but his stump still throbbed too much for that. But he had to feel that Steve was there, he had to be able to touch Steve, to hold his hand, to feel his scent, even if that induced another nightmare. But he also wanted to feel that he was surrounded by whom he trusted, so in the end he laid on his back, Steve on his side with his back against Bucky's side, just like when he used to be small enough to actually fit under Bucky's arm. Back then, of course, they didn't have three dogs too: one on Bucky's other side, one at their feet, and the third in Steve's embrace.

'I love you, Buck, please tell me how to help.'

 _Don't go away_ , Bucky wanted to say, but that would've been ridiculous. 'Sleep? Just breathe with me,' he said, and Steve gave a kiss to Bucky's knuckles and didn't let go of his one remaining hand.

'Of course, anything you want.'

Falling asleep took a lot longer than before, this time.

~*~*~

Needless to say they were both pretty beat when they travelled down to meet dr. Cho at the medical wing the next day. Even the dogs seemed less excited than usual, although that just may have been Bucky's imagination.

She greeted Bucky with her usual professionalism but apologized for the delay of the appointment: normally it would've happened soon after the operation, but she had a family emergency to attend. Bucky didn't mind as the talk with Fury was priority anyway.

'Is everything all right?' he asked her.

'Don't you worry about me, that works the other way around,' she chastised him and then checked his results, his stump, asked about movement and pain before having him to demonstrate, and even did an X-ray "just to see if his enhanced stance changed things since the operation".

When it was time for her professional opinion her smile wasn't very honest, but her usual, no-nonsense attitude comforted Bucky somewhat.

'So, I have great news, good news and bad news. The great news is that you're alive and healing exceptionally well. The good news is that that makes you fully eligible for an exoskeletal prosthetic. The bad news,' she said with a somber expression, 'is that I can't recommend you for a neurologically attached prosthetic.'

Bucky decided to concentrate fully on her, because Steve's crestfallen expression did nothing to improve his already shitty mood.

'How come?' Bucky asked.

'For three reasons, all of them boiling down to modern technology just not being advanced enough. With your predictable lifespan, though, you may live until something plausible gets invented.'

She turned her monitor to the visitor chairs Bucky and Steve were sitting on in front of her desk, and herself pushed some papers and folders away to sit on the table. She still wasn't much taller than either Bucky or Steve.

'A new neurally implanted prosthetic, as I've said, would be problematic for three reasons: weight, attachment and placement. The first one is the weight. The arm you'd need now would be two, maybe three times heavier than the one before, and that wasn't light either. Remember, your humerus and shoulder was supported with the exoskeletal socket, and you needed to exercise daily to have the muscle mass and strength to compensate your posture,' she circled parts of an animation of the human body to show what she was talking about. 'A prosthetic that would need to replace your biceps, triceps and even some of your deltoid muscles on top of your whole lower arm would put a strain on your posture no amount of exercise could help,' she drew over the spine of the drawing, a horribly visual S as an illustration of a debilitatingly crooked spine. 'We would need to use splinters to support your spine and a mesh for your deltoid and pectoral muscles, and such an operation is incredibly dangerous. Plus it's unprecedented; there's no guarantee that it would work. The result, even if successful, would probably interfere with your breathing too.'

Bucky exhaled, suddenly glad for the oxygen he wasn't having trouble getting. Yeah, not a pretty picture indeed. Having a metal arm was one thing; but metal screws on his _spine_ would be a completely different one. That could be used against him on the field so very easily, Magneto could lift him up with a wave, like he sometimes did with Wolverine, and, yeah, no. Preferably not, at least. His healing factor was far less capable than Logan's to deal with that kinda shit. The whole point of the arm was so that he would be fit for the field and not a liability again.

'This brings us to the second problem: the attachment. Your previous prosthetic was mainly attached to the humerus, and - pardon my saying - that was the best a doctor could ask for when it comes to neurological prosthetics. Attaching a new one for your shoulder joints, extending the support socket to almost your vertebrates - definitely to the scapula - would be, simply put, much more complex and problematic. A longer operation, more chance for things to go wrong, and of course much, much longer recovery period, even with your enhanced physiology. You would need to do physical therapy daily, and learning to move the new arm would take months at best. But this, combined with the amount of weight it would entail... I wouldn't risk it.'

Bucky nodded dully.

'And lastly, the placement. It is quite unfortunate that the limb in question is your left arm - well, I suppose you don't see it that way as it isn't your dominant hand, nor do you use it to walk, but from a medical perspective... it's the closest to your heart, you see,' and she didn't need to point at the heart on the screen for Bucky to understand. 'The skeletal and muscular support would get very close to the heart, and if those get damaged - which, in your line of work, is a decent possibility - then your heart may be injured beyond recovery. And that's not even getting into the neurological side of the problem, because with an extensive prosthetic like that? If your arm gets short-circuited again, for lack of better word, it would most likely stop your heart on the spot. I'm sure you understand the consequences of that.'

Okay. Well. Okay.

'Yes,' Bucky said, 'I do.'

He reached over and took Steve's hand, and Steve squeezed it with all his might.

'What are, um, normal prosthetic options?' Bucky asked.

'We have a few that could work,' she said, opening some videos to demonstrate attachment variations and dexterity options.

They all looked dull, extremely dull compared to Bucky's old, almost magical left arm. Sure it had issues, made weird noises sometimes and all kinds of things got stuck between the plates, and for a while after getting it Bucky felt like a robot, like some weird, unnatural cyborg, but. It was his. Became a part of him, even. And it allowed him to do what he always did best, help people and help Steve.

But if he persuaded dr. Cho to install a new one, and survived and healed, and it all went well, which, based on her intel, had a slim chance of happening, but even then - he probably wouldn't be allowed on active missions. Not with a risk like that. So however useless the other ones looked, at least with them he could be back on his feet quickly and maybe become Steve's handler. Hell, even with one arm his knowledge was worth more than your average joe's, and SHIELD had no reason to say no to him when trusted personnel became so scarce. He could still help and be with Steve, be the voice in his ear, still watch his six - and probably watch when Steve did something stupid that Bucky couldn't talk him out of and even watch him die —

Bucky shook himself and returned to the present.

Apparently he missed quite a lot because dr. Cho just looked at him expectantly.

'Sorry,' Bucky mumbled. 'Could you repeat that, please?'

'Maybe I should give you some time to get accustomed to the new info,' she said, and she didn't seem angry. 'I have to ask, Agent Barnes, do you have a therapist to talk to?'

Bucky shrugged. 'There's shrinks we have to see regularly, but not really, no. It didn't help much back then, either.'

'I suggest you seek one out anyway. Losing an arm is traumatic by itself, losing the same one twice...' she trailed off.

'Means I have practice, right?' Bucky cracked a smile, and Steve rubbed his thumb on Bucky's hand.

'I'm afraid that's not how this works,' she smiled back regardless.

'I don't think SHIELD has free capacity to vouch tertiary personnel,' Bucky said, but she just raised an eyebrow. 'I'll try anyway, I promise.'

'Good, thank you. How about another consultation two days from now?'

They agreed on the exact time, and she also referred Bucky to a physiotherapist before back to their suite it was.

~*~*~

Normally Bucky would've baked something - a lot of somethings, to be more precise. Sadly that was off the table, now, and not only because of his arm but also because of how wearied he still felt. Steve pulled him close in the elevator, though, just to breathe into his neck, and that was nice, Bucky wholly supported the idea.

'I'm sorry,' Steve whispered, which was a lot less nice.

'It's fine,' Bucky said. 'I can live with one arm, or one of those less advanced prosthetics.'

'I know, but I'm sorry anyway,' Steve said. 'I love you.'

'I know,' Bucky placed a kiss to Steve's head. 'Will you help me shave?'

'I'll help you with everything,' Steve replied without missing a beat, with the confidence of someone having mentally said that multiple times. 'But I like the shadow.'

Bucky huffed out a breath. 'Just 'cause you're turning neanderthal doesn't mean I will too,' he said, because Steve had still not shaved, not that the beginnings of the beard he sported did not suit him.

'Nah, your hair is way too fancy for that,' Steve said, and Bucky outright laughed at that. How Steve could do this, make him so happy after such bad news, he would never know.

'Maybe I'll grow it out for a proper braid,' Bucky joked, but Steve nodded, and that prompted Bucky to ask,  'What is it that you're suddenly into this long-haired, bearded modern image?'

'It's just nice that we can do it,' Steve said. 'Before the serum I couldn't even grow a beard, not that it would've been fashionable, and then we had to be smooth for Cap.'

Bucky snorted at that, because if one thing Steve Rogers wasn't, it was smooth. The elevator opened with a ping, and Bucky supposed JARVIS timed it to a nice moment in their moods - God bless Tony and how even his robots had empathy.

Regardless of cooking or not, Bucky reflexively headed for the kitchen for a snack, and Steve dutifully followed.

'It's the truth,' Steve said.

'It's rich that you think you would've followed fashion,' Bucky argued.

In the kitchen they found both Sam and the dogs. Sam looked up from his probably second breakfast, oatmeal, from the counter, and said, 'Your dogs are not afraid to give you a run for your money.’ The three mutts barked up at them. Bucky gave out pats and noted how they were all relaxed after a long run.

'They do that, yeah,' Steve, too, greeted them. 'Thanks for taking care of them, Sam.'

'No problem, man.'

Bucky saw that he was about to ask how it went with the doc, so he interfered by continuing their earlier discussion with Steve. 'I'm saying you would'a grown a beard just to show you could.'

'But that's it,' Steve humored him, clearly seeing his intent. 'Back then we would've been weirdos just for having a beard, let alone long hair. And now we can, we can even hold hands in front of the doc! Isn't it nice to use the chance?'

Yeah, okay. 'It is,' Bucky conceded. The Winter Soldier wasn't a superhero likely to resurface again, so no worries about rebranding, and Steve could create his new alias any way he wanted, once he convinced SHIELD of killing off Cap. 'Want piercings too? Tattoos?'

'C'mon, you know the serum would heal them instantly,' Steve said, with certain sadness over the loss.

'...paint your hair green?'

Steve made a face. 'Not green, no. And highlights would look better in your long strands anyway,' he said, without any hint of irony, and wow. Bucky did not see this side coming.

'Who are you and what have you done with the Steve Rogers who always wears khakis and button-ups?'

'A man free of expectations,' Steve grinned, and stepped close to Bucky to give him a full kiss on the lips. 'You should try it.'

Bucky looked at where his left arm used to be.

Maybe. Maybe he could look at it as a new beginning, instead of as a sad ending.

His eyes found Steve's and they smiled at each other, fond and intimate.

Then his senses registered silence in the place of Sam's spoon hitting the bowl and he looked up.

Sam looked absolutely lost in his thought, and come to think about it, had been uncharacteristically quiet during Steve's little announcement the day prior too.

'You've been uncharacteristically quiet,' Bucky said. Sam looked up in surprise. 'What. I pay attention.'

Sam glanced to the side.

'Sam?' Steve asked, now on the verge of worry. 'Something wrong?'

'Nah, it's...' Sam sighed. 'Look. I know it's stupid and if I were my own therapist I'd hit myself on the head. But you... you don't want to quit being Cap because I've been nagging you too much about the drawbacks of the business, right?'

Sam had been doing _what_?!

'No, Sam, of course not! I admit it helped with putting things into perspective, but Bucky and I have been talking about being fed up with Cap a lot.'

Bucky nodded. 'Don't be an idiot, Sam. You can't make Captain America move if he doesn't want to, much less Steve Rogers.'

'Yeah, I know, I'd just feel incredibly guilty if I killed Cap.' But Sam looked much more relieved than before.

'Only Cap can kill Cap,' Steve grinned.

'Good. Because I have to say I think it's a great idea - all that emotional jazz didn't give you enough room to breathe. For the both of you. I'd do you good to put that burden down,' and Sam looked at Bucky for a suspiciously long time, at least compared to how little they interacted normally.

'Well, thanks Mr Therapist,' Bucky said in an exaggerated sarcastic manner.

Sam rolled his eyes.

'Seriously, thank you, Sam,' Steve said and clapped his shoulder. 'Your support means a lot.'

~*~*~

Fury had some great ideas to try to convince Steve of taking up the shield again, like threatening to use one of the Cap-recruits, just like Bucky and Steve had predicted back when they had been planning coming out, but to which Steve put his feet down quite firmly; or like emotionally blackmailing Steve with Roscoe. _That_ almost worked, except Steve had been telling Bucky for too long that it wasn't their fault that he himself, too, believed it. Partly. Enough to brush Fury off, at least.

Fury really wasn't approaching this situation from the right angle, Bucky thought, because out-stubborning Steve would never work. Not even with Tony, and he was the second most headstrong person Bucky knew. All Fury was able to achieve was to have Steve stare at his shield wistfully a couple of times while Bucky thanked whoever discovered ebook readers - normal books would’ve been much harder to hold and read.

The imbalance got significantly worse than the last time. He lost more weight with the arm, just like dr. Cho said, but he also just lost weight - precious muscle weight at that, too, with him throwing up every other night from the haunting memories. Even his cigarettes tasted like bile.

With the loss of the arm he had less to counter his right side. In the morning he especially found it hard not to walk into doors and then miss doorknobs by inches. His superstrength sure did not help to keep the place intact, and he ended up having to profusely apologise to Tony for janking the curtain down, or breaking a shelf.

The general downer state of his body improved, and he felt less like a bus had hit him, and more like just a cyclist by day four after being released from the hospital wing.  Inversely proportional with that, however, his muscles began aching in the most surprising and uncomfortable ways, as his body had to adapt to a new situation and pose.

His back hurt. His core muscles screamed at him. Even the joints of his right hand began to protest, as they now had to take all the work that was previous divided into two.

Steve used a herbal cream dr. Cho prescribed to massage into his sore spots, and that, at least, got him some temporary relief. Unless he had an awful flashback and freaked out, but hey, into every light a little rain must fall, or some shit.

Everyday acts, too, became chores, but at least he had practice asking Steve to tie his shoelaces until the ones with velcro straps came in the mail, and most he got done by himself. He had no idea how people managed with one hand until he found himself in the situation, and then was surprised by how resourceful one can get. He had no trouble opening glass jars and managing just fine, even if he _was_ lopsided.

Once the splinter got taken down from his stump he even ventured back into the kitchen to cook. It took twice as long as normally, and he eventually used a very eager-looking Steve as another set of hands that held the bowl for him until the fluffied the batter for the pancakes. Not the fanciest or the best he’s ever made, but it felt heavenly.

~*~*~

Bucky hoped that the physical exhaustion that usually came from PT would overwrite his mental one, but alas, no such luck. Bucky's arm hurt and he rolled his eyes at himself - phantom pain, always present, no matter how much he tried to convince his mind that there was nothing there to be hurting anymore. So he looked to his left - maybe visual input would help - and did a double take. His arm was there - the socket covering from the shoulder down, everything made of shiny metal, plates shifting. Amazed, he rotated the arm, flexed and curled his fingers, tested it to see properly, but it really was his arm, his old, beloved, modern metal arm.

Plus the pain.

Suddenly, between one moment and the next, the shiny surface dulled as dark, thick liquid oozed out between the plates, and the metallic silver turned red-streaked, and agony followed soon after; the agony of Zola injecting God knew what into his veins, the searing white pain of the HYDRA weapon taking his whole arm, the electric shocks that followed the knife Crossbones stabbed him with. He wanted the arm off but even the thought of touching it repulsed him; he cried out in pain—

— and woke up in his own bed.

His feet got tangled in the sheets and he almost fell over a dog but he made it to the toilet just in time.

'Bucky?'

A hand was laid on the small of his back and he almost jumped out of his skin.

'God, sorry, sorry,' Steve backed away quickly, face distorted into something Bucky never wanted to see again, and self-hatred fueled the nausea. Bucky threw up again, what little was still in him, anyway.

'Can I help? Water? Towels? Anything?' Steve asked helplessly when Bucky rested his forehead on the seat. It was gross.

'Mmm,' Bucky said, and Steve shot up to comply.

Bucky flushed the toilet, then rested his head on the seat again - God fucking damn it.

He checked his left but nope, his whole arm was missing, just the stump at the shoulder and then nothing. As it had been the day before, and the day before that.

He heard Steve approaching this time and accepted the glass of water and the wet towel as well.

'Sorry,' Bucky mumbled.

'Don't be, I am. Didn't want to startle you,' Steve balled his fists to prevent from reaching out, and Bucky appreciated the effort.

'Didn't mean to wake you,' Bucky said. The words brought him back to the nightmare, and his stomach rebelled against the water, and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut.

'Tell me how I can help,' Steve pleaded.

 _Don't touch me_ , Bucky wanted to say, but fuck, hadn't Zola and HYDRA taken enough from him? Steve's touch, Bucky's security blanket wasn't going to be theirs if it kills Bucky.

'Touch, just no weight,' Bucky gritted out through his teeth and hoped Steve would get him. He heard movement, and twitched again when skin touched his shin. He cracked half an eye open - Steve laid on the floor, his hand under Bucky's folded up legs, thumb running in circles.

'Touch, no weight,' Steve explained.

Bucky almost told him that he was going to get pneumonia on the hard tiles before he remembered that Steve wasn't prone to illnesses anymore. And that their suite had floor heating anyway.

'Heat,' he whispered, and Steve nodded and asked JARVIS to turn it up.

His shivering - had he been shivering? His shivering slowed after some time, and he managed to keep the water in him thanks to focusing on Steve's hand. Cleaning his face with the wet towel felt like heaven, and then he just laid down next to Steve onto the floor.

Steve had his hand on the floor, palm up, and Bucky slid his own into his.

'Better?' Steve asked.

'Yeah.'

'Bed?'

'Nah,' Bucky closed his eyes again. 'Here's good.'

'Okay.'

So they laid there, on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, and Bucky refused to apologize - the Nazis should apologize, they should _always_ apologize. And Bucky was sorry for many things: waking Steve up, scaring him, having issues - but he'd do the same for Steve, and now they at least had central heating instead of ratty old stoves, and that made lying on the floor a hellofa lot more convenient.

~*~*~

Some thing he could’ve managed alone, but decided not to. That’s how he found himself sitting on the edge of the tub, with Steve putting shaving cream on his face before lifting the straight razor.

‘Ready?’

Bucky just nodded and Steve went in.

 _The last time_ went round and round in his brain, although unlike how Taylor sang it, Bucky’s last time was set in the past, not in the present. Because the last time Steve had to help with everything, including shaving, he barely looked Bucky in the eye. Back then Bucky thought he was mad at Bucky for ending up in this century, or annoyed with Bucky’s state, or he just channelled his anger into jerkassery, but in hindsight Steve was just hurting.

But now, in the present, Steve was gentle and attentive and most importantly, _there_. Maybe that’s why Bucky took the second loss of his left arm with such contempt. He was definitely not as depressed as the last time; apart from the nightmares from the operation and the ever-present fear of losing Steve, he was _fine_. He walked the dogs, he joined the Team for movie nights, he read and watched and binged stuff. He even went to work out with Steve, because even if he couldn’t be on the field and didn’t need to compensate for his arm, he was determined to stay in shape.

‘What’cha smiling at?’ Steve asked him after the first two shaves.

‘This is nice,’ Bucky said, and run his arm up Steve’s thigh when Steve stepped back to him. Bucky opened his legs so that they would bracket Steve, and Steve ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair before resuming his work.

‘Want me to cut your hair too?’

Bucky considered his options. His hair was the longest yet, but it only reached to his chin. Before he got his metal arm, the feeling of long strands had made him feel very uneasy - just another reminder of how different his life had became. But now… if he wasn’t going to be either Cap or the Soldier, he could be anybody. He could wear his hair however he wanted to.

‘Not yet,’ he said.

‘Really?’ Steve seemed surprised. ‘I thought you were against this new hobo image.’

‘I’m not,’ Bucky protested. ‘Just needed time.’

Steve hummed in appreciation, and then went back to shaving.

The feeling of Steve between his legs sent a shiver down his spine, but then he had to let Steve go when Steve stepped back to the sink to wash the razor. He dampened a towel and patted down Bucky’s chin, and even put the aftershave on for him.

Bucky looked in the mirror. As always, Steve did a spotless job, and Bucky’s face became smooth like when he was 12, and maybe Bucky expected to see his true self underneath the stubble, but if so, he didn’t get his wish.

The man in the mirror did not have a left arm - but had a golden ring on his right hand. And Bucky liked how his hair fell down and how he could tuck it behind his ear. And he loved the man standing by his side, stubble definitely thickening into a beard, golden hair falling into his eyes: a new Bucky and a new Steve.

‘Thank you,’ Bucky kissed Steve.

‘You don’t look very satisfied,’ Steve pointed out.

‘Maybe I want to grow out a beard after all,’ Bucky sighed, and Steve grinned.

In hindsight, he may have wanted Steve to shave him and overwrite the memory of last time more than he actually wanted to shave.

‘Feel free to reach my level,’ he said, and Bucky rolled his eyes - of course Steve would turn it into a race.

‘And maybe longer hair, too,’ Bucky mused. ‘But I can’t imagine myself with long hair.’

‘Not yet,’ Steve smiled at him again.

Two days later he presented Bucky with a drawing, a rare conceptual one: it was Steve and Bucky in casual clothes, a navy button down with jeans for Steve and a burgundy henley with black trousers for Bucky, and Steve had a considerably long beard and his hair reached his chin, and Bucky had a stubble and his hair… His hair was a _mane_. Full and luxurious, it came well down below his shoulders, and Bucky… Bucky quite liked that. He liked that enough so that he didn’t even mind the feature appearance of his missing left arm.

The lack of _Cap_ in the postures, in the carefreeness combined with the new outfits triggered the gaping image of Tony - he surely would have stuff to say about the hipster looks. But maybe he could have braiding parties with Nat and Pepper; apparently that was a thing they did while they planned the fall of western civilization, or something similar. That obviously led to Sam’s imagined face and the _horror--_ and something else that had him huffing out a breath.

Steve looked at him inquiringly.

'It's just our luck that you announce Cap should die and then we find the perfect Third Cap.'

Steve furrowed his brows, and Bucky fought the urge to smooth the lines out on his forehead. The guy was gonna get himself permanent craves on his forehead at this rate.

Then Steve's eyes became round as plates.

'...Sam?'

'It's like he was meant for the job,' Bucky said. ‘He just does what you do, but slower. Why didn't we think of this earlier?'

'We were busy not knowing he did superheroing. Also he left the service.'

'Then got back again when you fluttered your lashes at him,' Bucky pointed out.

‘Jerk,’ Steve replied instantly, and Bucky knew he only didn’t get a finger to the ribs on account of his missing arm.

‘Punk,’ Bucky fired back. ‘Seriously. He was there with the Cap-issues from the getgo, even if unknowingly. If Fury doesn't want Cap dead we could ask him to be our backup.'

'Fury wants Cap dead.'

'Naw, he just doesn't want to challenge you to a dare. He's smarter than that.'  

Steve's eyes narrowed at that, but Bucky just shrugged.

'We can make them see reason now, after HYDRA,' Steve said.

'We'll see,' Bucky said. Fury was an insistent asshole.

‘So how _do_ you like the long hair?’ Steve came up to him to wrap him up in a mighty embrace.

‘It’d be nice because from this high up, I could play Rapunzel,’ Bucky mused, and Steve let out a barking laugh.

~*~*~

They had only one mission soon after the Helicarrier battle, for which both Steve and Bucky offered tactical insight. Iron Man became the leader, and he took Thor, Ant-Man, Hawkeye and Black Widow to this seemingly abandoned HYDRA warehouse (because of course it was always a warehouse) mostly for intel. Two of them would've probably been enough for this sort of a mission, but none of them were taking any chances.

So Steve shared what he knew of HYDRA's ways of working and what he deduced just from the slim folder Fury gave them, and Bucky talked about advancing positions and best strategies.

The mission went without a hitch and then back to the cleanup it was.

Bucky wasn't the only one with apparent issues in the immediate aftermath of the battle. The Avengers in general seemed to be doing well, if looked at from a distance, but the sudden camaraderie that facing the end of the world brought meant that the cracks were visible from up close, and up close they were.

One found members in the common areas, nearly always, even at the crack of dawn; people flinched when sudden a noise occurred, even if that was just a door slamming close nearby; and everyone had their antics, let that be an overly sweet teeth or always needing to have a background noise around.

Mary, Isaac and Daisy became Team favorites quickly. They say that dogs are therapeutic, and the three mutts were no exception, and soon everyone borrowed them for various things, let that be a walk outside or a stormy night's reading companionship.

A brown-haired and competent-looking lady showed up one day, introduced herself as Barton’s roommate, aka the better Hawkeye, and brought a dog too: a one-eyed stray called Lucky, and then they had enough dogs between them all.

The other one to take HYDRA's fallout especially badly, other than Steve and Bucky, was Tony. He had kept crazy hours before, but then it all got worse: when Bucky trotted down to the workshop at 11AM Tony was there, hammering and smouldering away, and when Bucky returned at night, Tony appeared to have been doing the exact same thing. Sometimes he did not emerge from the workshop unless his presence was especially demanded upstairs, and the circles under his eyes got black enough to have been drawn on with charcoal.

Bucky decided to tackle the issue head-on.

However, he always found that with Tony, asking directly never ended well. He had to be provoked into talking, into talking about how he _felt_ , which was surprisingly hard, considering how much Tony loved oversharing and overshadowing otherwise.

'So, does modern science have something good for problems with sleep? And I mean, do _you_ have something.'

He must not have been as sneaky as he imagined, because Tony didn't even look up. 'No. Tried to invent some with Bruce one time but it didn't end well.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah, we had to, um, redecorate. An entire floor. Pepper wasn't happy.'

'And were your nightmares like real memories?'

Tony _very carefully_ didn't look up. 'Who said anything about me having nightmares?'

Bucky sighed. 'Tony, a few days ago you told me about Afghanistan. I can see the signs that something's wrong now, too.'

'Well, how about this,' Tony put his welding torch down, finally. 'Steve wants to kill Cap, all of SI's results are going towards making sure that HYDRA is purged from the world, and you've lost your arm?'

There was something in the way Tony replied, but Bucky just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something… hidden. Something Tony did not want to reveal. Bucky took a wild stab in the dark anyway.

'My arm? Are you trying to _invent_ something for my arm?' he asked, and Tony immediately picked the torch back up.

'No, Barnes, of course not. I have to focus on tracking HYDRA, but I'll let you know if I accidentally invent something amazing.'

~*~*~

How little Tony was willing to open up now compared to how inviting he appeared just a few days prior, in the hospital, nagged at Bucky’s mind. Sure, they were all… _off_ , but Tony took it badly even compared to Bucky; so much so that Bucky got to the point where he also told Steve about his worries. He himself couldn’t find the strength needed to climb over those new set of walls - maybe his strength was stored in his left arm, like in those old fairy-tales - but Steve sure would.

Okay, so maybe Bucky took to worrying about Tony as a preventive measure as opposed to dealing with the Team worrying about him. And by the Team he mostly meant Sam and Nat, both of whom tried to corner Bucky and interrogate him about his state, something Bucky didn’t really feel like talking about. So he convinced Steve that something was up with Tony, and they both ended up spending hours down in the workshop. Very rarely Steve went alone, and only when Bucky made sure that he was okay being left alone.

Plus Steve was the second best, second only to Pepper, to get Tony to rejoin the Team, even if that was only because of HYDRA-related business.

'So Jay dug out some very interesting info regarding Crossbones,' Tony said in lieu of a proper greeting. He was the last to enter the living room as they all awaited dinner to arrive. 'That mission in Siberia? The guy you were supposed to catch but who shot himself in the head was a HYDRA departee. It was just old-fashioned revenge.'

'Of course Crossbones didn't care about the casualties then,' Steve said.

'No. And something else— JARVIS analyzed the footage from the Alpha Helicarrier, and you know who set fire to the engines?'

'Who?'

'These three,' and a blue holo-screen appeared in the middle of the room, on which three masked yet very familiar figures appeared.

'Who are these?' Sam asked.

'Weren't they the ones that attacked you?' Hope Pym asked.

'Not them, their replacement,' Natasha corrected.

'Yeah, and our recruitment Cap almost ended up killing them,' Steve said. 'I didn't keep track of what happened later, though.'

'Well, they're called the Bold Urban Commandos, which is as stupid a name for a superhero group as can get, and they had these organized stunts with your Captain U. S. Agent before he took up your mask. Now they've radicalized themselves so much so that they side with the Nazis, which is especially rich given that their abbreviation literally spells BUCkies.'

A moment of silence settled.

'Any other heartwarming news?' Bucky asked.

JARVIS answered after another beat of pause. 'Pizza is here.'

'That is at least really heartwarming,' Barton muttered, and indeed it was.

~*~*~

That very same afternoon, before Bucky could even properly process what the new information meant, and not even a week after the first talk with Fury about Cap's death, the Director showed up again and had a private meeting with Steve. Bucky rolled his eyes at it along with the rest of the Avengers: if Steve was set on something, nobody could steer him, except maybe Bucky. If Fury wanted something, he should've cornered Bucky, not that Steve left his side a lot. He was always doodling away or reading or fiddling with his phone close by, ready to jump the moment Bucky so much as breathed heavily. But he disappeared with Fury for maybe half an hour - shorter than their previous discussions, at least - and when he returned his eyebrows were drawn together.

'He just threatened that we'd never go back to the field unless I take up the shield again,' Steve proclaimed.

'Oh yeah?' Bucky's stomach twisted.

'Yeah, and he wasn't happy when I told him to go to hell, respectfully.'

Respectfully. Sure.

'And if they really don't?' Bucky asked.

'They can go to hell, for all I care,' Steve said, and cast a glance at the red, white and blue item in question by the wall. 'Either Cap comes out as gay or dies; I don't care which. I ain't going back to the closet while I'm marrying you.'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so regarding Bucky's arm: it's made up by yours truly. Based on tremendous amount of research, mind you, about amputees and prosthetics and medical articles, but his arm is not scientifically possible so I definitely took many, many liberties. [I used this post as inspiration.](http://shakespearesconesandstars.tumblr.com/post/122701398536/mcu-winter-soldiers-arm)
> 
> And we're probably going to be 14 chapters because upon writing this story I did not realize just how many things I glossed over, saying "to be explained/edited later" and uuugh, past me, why. I have way too many subplots and arcs and whatnot and I have to cross all the T-s first, so. More chapters it is. (And the drabbles won't even fit, that's why this is a series.)
> 
>  
> 
> The tumblr usernames are made up my me and Mena and hopefully nobody irl has these exact ones XD any resemblance is just a coincidence, you know the drill. The inspiration for this bit came from that tweet that I can't find now, the one that says you don't have to be a voice for the voiceless, just pass on the mic. 
> 
> Please comment if you liked it, that would help with my energy levels, which i need at maximum to tackle the rest of this story XD


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